


¥5000

by raae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Fingering, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Makeup, Mentions of other kpop groups, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Precum as Lube, Smut, Tokyo (City), Winter Setting, don’t let these tags scare you, emo!sehun, exol!junmyeon, hinted blood kink (as a joke), i highly recommend you this thing if you were/are into them, literally so sorry but that’s for plot purposes only, mentions of various eevee evolutions, most of this thing is just sehun being whipped & clueless, multiple references to emo bands, ooc—sehun hates boba & yeol is a jerk, rapper!pcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raae/pseuds/raae
Summary: tokyo certainly shines bright, but the light in junmyeon’s eyes shines brighter, and sehun, emo extraordinaire, will do anything not to let the world steal it away (yes, even following his best friend all the way to japan to see some guy’s indie rap band playing).
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin (side), Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 28
Kudos: 85
Collections: Round 3: Autumn and Winter - On the Snow





	¥5000

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Flake:** #224  
>  **Author’s Note:** massive thanks to our lovely mods for always being so understanding and nice, to the æhëugh gc that had to listen to me losing it over this thing and most importantly to the prompter! thank you! <33
> 
> (this was in no way beta-ed, so beware of any possible mistakes & typos you may come across while reading)

☆彡

“Junmyeon,” Sehun starts, a cup of microwaveable noodles in hand. It feels smooth and solid in his hold, and it’s weirdly grounding, in its own way. Sehun takes a deep, deep breath, staring down at the colorful patterns on the cup absentmindedly, and tries to make his voice as soft as humanly possible before inevitably ruining things just like any other time, “I can’t even speak Japanese.”

And Junmyeon, _the fucker_ , he pouts. He doesn’t glare at Sehun, doesn’t call him the worst ‘ _bff_ ’ ever. He just pouts, knowing well Sehun is weak, so weak for that same pout of his, “but Sehunnie—“

“No but’s, Jun. I’d love to come with you, and you know it, but my father would never let me fly to Japan for a concert. We don’t have enough money for that shit,” Sehun sighs, pouring some warm water into the colorful cup, “you know how he is. He’s reluctant even of letting me take the bus to Seoul.”

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything then - _probably because he does know Sehun’s father_ \- and just follows Sehun around like a kicked puppy looking for cuddles— which Sehun would gladly give him, if it wasn’t for the fact that Junmyeon’s acting like the whiny asshole Sehun knows well he _isn’t_.

“What’s it that’s got you so hooked on the guy, anyway?” The younger asks, voice coming out a little rougher than expected. He clears his throat, dares throwing a glance at Junmyeon— fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed the tricks his voice is playing on him, and if he has, he doesn’t show.

Instead, Junmyeon’s cheeks redden slightly and his eyes light up at the mention of _the guy_ , as if he was his lover or something, and he starts making a list of all the things he loves about him, much to Sehun’s dismay. He goes on about how _he’s just so cute, his ears are so big, Sehunnie, so big, and he, oh my God, he’s amazing? His voice sounds like coming back home on a rainy, cold Thursday evening, like a warm blanket of love and hugs, like sitting in front of the fireplace with your skin burning from the close proximity_ —

At some point, around the first mention of the guy’s name from Junmyeon’s pretty pink lips that Sehun, unfortunately, has yet to claim as his, he zones out. He distracts himself with the cup noodles, for how distracting putting a cup of water, dried noodles and vegetables in the microwave can be, and tries not to focus too much on the ringing in his ears.

The guy— a rapper from some sort of Korean indie rap group called… _XO_? Or something, as Junmyeon told him one day while they were eating fresh-out-of-the-microwave McDonald’s leftovers from the night before, is called Park Chanyeol and is quite famous, too. Sehun doesn’t even know his face, but he already kind of hates him, for how childish that might sound. Maybe he really is the big baby everyone makes him out to be, after all.

Yes, he does hate Park Chanyeol, because Junmyeon doesn’t spare him half the attention he gives to this pathetic pretense of a rapper— he isn’t even Japanese. Why the hell is Junmyeon even bugging him about following this guy all the way to _Japan_ when he’s _Korean_?

Anyway, _yes_ , Sehun hates Park Chanyeol, if that wasn’t clear enough. He and Junmyeon have been best friends for years, yet this guy manages to win over Junmyeon’s heart in, like, two months, and that, that is definitely _unacceptable_.

Or, maybe Sehun just isn’t enough, he thinks as he stares at the cup noodles going in circles in the microwave. Maybe this Chanyeol guy is funnier, more handsome than him, worth more. Maybe he’s strong and independent and Sehun just doesn’t stand a chance. Maybe Junmyeon’s attracted to rappers with gigantic ears, to men that have got their career figured out and their shit together, unlike himself—

“…Sehun? The microwave beeped one minute ago.”

_Oops_.

“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry,” Sehun mumbles, hurrying to open it and take out the still hot, maybe slightly too hot cup. He’s so numb he doesn’t even register the burning sensation at the tip of his fingers properly, anyway, “you said you wanted the noodles with veggies, right?”

“Yes, but… Are you okay? You look kinda out of it…” Junmyeon notes, voice dropping to a light, worried tone as he studies Sehun, looking for something he’ll definitely find, sooner or later, with that sexy brain of his. _Huh_.

Sehun can’t help the small, defeated smile that blossoms on his face at that. After all, Junmyeon is always Junmyeon, the same little boy that hugged him when Sehun fell and scratched his knee in elementary school, the same boy that let him cry on his shoulder when Sehun first got his heart broken by some older emo guy with emerald eyes, the same young man that always falls into bed with him at night because he knows Sehun can’t sleep alone.

And Sehun almost hates himself for loving him the way he does, because Junmyeon is Junmyeon, so out of his league it’s almost funny to look at the situation from another, farther perspective that’s not influenced by random streaks of hopeless hopefulness and useless daydreaming.

“I’m fine, I guess.” Sehun fakes a smile, but he knows Junmyeon doesn’t and will never fall for that.

☆彡

“C’mon, tell me about your plans,” Sehun blurts out over a mouthful of noodles, ten minutes later, locking eyes with Junmyeon, “when is the concert? How long do you plan on staying?”

They’re sitting face to face on Junmyeon’s favorite leather couch, noodle cups in hand and sides leaning against the plush back pillows. Sehun tries his best to smile at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon does the same. They’re so close their knees touch, yet Junmyeon feels so _far_.

“It’s in three weeks,” Junmyeon starts, slurping down some of the warm soup, “on a Thursday. Why do they even always hold concerts on Thursdays? They’re like, my least favorite weekdays ever,” he pouts around the paper edge of the cup, “I’m going there a couple days before the concert just to, you know… Have a look… Around…” Junmyeon’s voice lowers to a whisper, small and unimposing, and he hurriedly stuffs his face with noodles.

Sehun sighs, killing the urge to reach out and hold Junmyeon’s hand, “where are you staying?”

“At a small, cheap hotel in Nakano. 5000 yen a night. I booked that room because… Um… It’s cheap and… If you…” Junmyeon is so small, he’s always been. Sehun struggles to even remember a time when Junmyeon was taller than him. Now, now he only looks smaller, curling up into himself like that, looking down at the cup in his small hands like it could magically help him out of the tense situation.

“You know I could… I could just pay for you…” He whispers after a while, eyes glassy.

And Sehun hates himself, his addict father, his equally addict mother, his never-ending list of issues and probably everyone who isn’t Junmyeon.

As he stares at him, looking all small and sad and exceptionally fragile, Sehun thinks he’ll do about anything to see him smile again.

☆彡

“So you’re telling me you want to go all the way to _Japan_ just because that Kim kid told you he wants to go see some band playing?” His father deadpans over his fifth or sixth cup of coffee of the day— Sehun doesn’t keep count of those anymore, now. It’d be borderline useless, when they just add up into the sink and it gets troublesome to tell them apart. He lost count, at some point, when the number of cups reached fifteen.

It’s been exactly two weeks and six days since the evening Junmyeon asked him to go to Japan with him. It’s been everything short of a nightmare, having to witness Junmyeon trying to make it seem like he doesn’t care, like it doesn’t hurt him that Sehun refused his offer, like he’s perfectly okay with traveling alone, once again, like it’s always been.

And Sehun. Sehun just can’t let him go to Japan alone, no, not this once. Junmyeon always, _always_ asks him to tag along when he has to go somewhere, be it because of work or personal choice. Junmyeon always tries, and Sehun can’t, he just _can’t_ give that up, give up the only person that seems to care. This once, Sehun won’t let the world get in between. He would never do the same mistake again, because he may be a coward, the worst of them all, even, but when it comes to Junmyeon, nothing else matters.

And it really doesn’t, when he hasn’t got anything else, not even one light bulb working in his room, and Junmyeon’s hands down, no kidding, _deadass_ the only reason he hasn’t given up on himself yet.

Junmyeon isn’t Sehun’s world. That would be an exaggeration. But Junmyeon, he takes up a good part of it nevertheless.

“Yes.” Sehun answers his father’s question through gritted teeth, voice cold, face impassible. He stares down at his hands, at his chipped black nail polish that really needs to be fixed, and sees his fingers tremble slightly. He doesn’t need to look in his father’s eyes to feel the disappointment swimming in them projecting onto himself, nor does he need to plead him for approval. Sehun was never looking for that.

Junmyeon’s disappointment feels a hundred times worse on his skin, anyway.

“Isn’t it getting ridiculous?” His father snorts, cocking an eyebrow, “this guy, does he even care about you the way you care about him? And you’d skip school because of him. For nothing. See, this is why you should’ve found yourself a pretty girl—“

Sehun knows, Junmyeon hasn’t given the extra ticket away yet. He knows he hasn’t returned it, either. He knows he’s been hoping Sehun would change his mind all along. But Sehun’s mind, it’s never needed any change; it’s been in the same place since the start.

“He’s paying. I’m taking off tomorrow at seven. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” And with that, Sehun’s out of the room.

☆彡

“Jun, can I stay over?” Sehun asks, chin propped on the palm of his right hand as he stares at Junmyeon typing away on his laptop across the table. A Vaporeon sticker stares back at him, wise, knowing, and Sehun almost feels intimidated by its black paper eyes that seem to be searching his soul, determined, unforgiving.

Right after his umpteenth fight with his father - _just like with all those coffee cups, he doesn’t keep count of those anymore_ \- Sehun had quickly put on some decent enough clothes, consisting in way-too-tight jeans from a couple years back, a random black hoodie and a purple bomber jacket that was lying around, unceremoniously snatched his father’s car keys from their hook and hopped on the old, black Golf Volkswagen 4 with a heavy heart, took that one route he’s become so familiar with over the years and found himself in front of Kim Junmyeon’s doorstep, fingers hurting from the cold angrily biting at his skin.

And Junmyeon would never _not_ invite him inside.

So here he is, sitting in front of Junmyeon like some lost kid, shamelessly staring at his small figure shining with blue light from the computer in the half darkness of his dimly lit living room.

“Mh…? Sure, obviously you can stay. You know you don’t even have to ask,” Junmyeon answers his question, squinting at the screen in front of eyes. He bites his lip, frowns, fixes a sentence, “is it about…”

“Yeah.” Sehun answers, short, concise. He’s not the only one that doesn’t even have to ask, after all. Junmyeon just about knows him well enough to be able to tell what’s worrying Sehun, most of the times. It’s endearing, hopeless thinking aside.

“You know, Sehunnie, it’s kind of funny, how much I’m growing to hate that man, and it’s not even _my_ father we’re talking about,” Junmyeon snorts, slightly shaking his head in disbelief as the light from the screen reflects on the lenses of his work glasses, making it hard for Sehun to see his eyes, “he’s such an asshole, and for what? Nothing, he just is.” He scoffs, sitting up straighter in his chair.

Sehun smiles weakly at him, but Junmyeon doesn’t see it, too busy playing the keyboard of his laptop like it was a piano of sorts. Maybe it’s better off that way, that he hasn’t noticed Sehun’s inappropriate smile. Sehun shouldn’t even be smiling right now, with all those issues of his holding knives to his throat and threatening to cut him to pieces.

But Sehun’s smiling nevertheless. Perhaps he doesn’t care anymore, has become a masochist, and the anarchic, angry songs he listens to are starting to get to his head. Maybe he’s getting selfish and hierarchy is just a useless social construct that’s way too old to be still taken in consideration.

_Maybe_ , Sehun thinks, tired eyes studying Junmyeon’s familiar, inviting features. His face alternates between soft curves and sharp edges, and while those useless Korean beauty standards may not recognize it as a balanced combination, Sehun is pretty sure that’s exactly what makes Junmyeon so handsome in his eyes. He’s perfect in the most paradoxical way, with eyebrows so thick and lips so soft, the bridge of his nose so straight, and his cheeks so round and full.

A while passes with Junmyeon _still_ furiously typing away, light fingers skirting across the keyboard skillfully, Sehun _still_ staring at him like a creep, and all those Pokémon stickers stuck to the back of Junmyeon’s Asus laptop staring back at hopeless little Sehun like they know things they aren’t supposed to.

They’re starting to bother him.

“We’re going to Tokyo.” Sehun says suddenly, breaking the heavy silence surrounding them, a final tone to his words. His hands are shaking, with fear, with anticipation, and the rational side of his mind is screaming at him violent words full of venom, but Sehun’s used to ignoring useless screams directed at himself, by now, after all these years practicing the amazing, wonderful art of _Not Giving A Damn_ with his father, so he blocks them out, focusing the way Junmyeon’s eyelashes brush against his cheeks as he blinks repeatedly to get his tired eyes to focus.

Screw his old man, he never cared about Sehun, anyway. Screw formal politeness, Sehun’s never been one to kiss ass. Screw rationality, that was lost long, long ago. And screw those Pokémon stickers staring at him like any of this was even their business to begin with.

It takes a while for Sehun’s determined words to sink in, and when they do, Junmyeon’s hands come to an abrupt halt, hovering over the keyboard. He looks up from his computer with big, wide eyes full of surprise and the tiniest, barely there hint of a pout on his slightly parted lips, his gaze tentatively meeting Sehun’s across the table. The latter can almost hear Junmyeon’s thoughts, with how loud they are, even over the noisy, unpleasant cacophony of his own.

“Sehun, you don’t have to do that for me,” Junmyeon says, serious. He’s frowning again, and Sehun has to kill the urge of taking a finger to the sliver of skin in between his eyebrows and smooth his frown out. It doesn’t look good on cute, sweet Junmyeon, makes him look older, more resolute.

It makes Sehun feel like he’s losing his grasp on him, those three years of difference between them suddenly looking like the issue they’ve never been.

“But I want to,” Sehun says, eyes sharp, “I want do, and I’m going to do just that,” he continues, leaning across the table and pushing Junmyeon’s laptop shut with two slim fingers, “so stop staring at this screen for a second and help me pack for you.”

Junmyeon stares at the closed device in front of him, frozen.

Sighing, Sehun gets up from his chair without waiting for the other to follow him. Junmyeon’s too nice for his own good, anyway, and Sehun knows he’ll follow him eventually. So he silently walks all the way to Junmyeon’s room finally feeling proud of himself, for once, dark, obsessive thoughts aside, and takes out his suitcase from the closet next to the door for him, setting it delicately on the bed.

Junmyeon loves traveling, and the state of his suitcase is proof of that; hundreds and hundreds of different stickers from various places all over the world break the boring gray of its material, grant it a colorful, lively appearance.

Sehun runs the pads of his fingers over the ruined borders of the stickers with care, smiling sadly when faded memories of his younger self waiting for his only friend to come back home swim back to the surface. He’s never been in any of the places Junmyeon has, be it because of money issues or because of his family situation, but he’s glad that at least Junmyeon’s had the chance to get a glimpse of the world outside their small, rusty town that knows no truth, only lies and retired spies.

He regrets it, regrets having left Junmyeon alone when he could’ve just rebelled to his pathetic pretense of a father and let his best friend take him away, away from the place he’s always been supposed to call ‘ _home_ ’, but that home, it has never been.

“Sehun…?” Junmyeon’s voice calls from the doorstep, small, tentative, pulling him out of his thoughts and down to earth.

Sehun smiles.

“We’re taking off tomorrow at seven pm, according to the tickets abandoned on your coffee table,” he says simply, turning to Junmyeon. Junmyeon’s staring at him with big eyes full of wonder, “so I suggest you start packing. I did that already so we just have to quickly drop by mine tomorrow for me to take everything.”

“S-Sehun, I…” Junmyeon looks so cute, gaping up at him like that. And Sehun might be the worst asshole of them all, yeah, he _definitely_ is, but when it comes to Junmyeon, he’s nothing but a goner.

“Will you let me come with you?” Sehun asks, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Junmyeon nods quickly at him, not even letting him finish the sentence, big eyes shining delightfully.

“H-hold on,” Junmyeon says, sounding rather excited at the idea of traveling with Sehun, “I’ll give you the flight ticket,” he smiles, running off to the living room to look for it with one last, hopeful look at Sehun.

_It’s worth it_ , Sehun thinks, heart stuttering back to life in his chest, _it’s definitely worth it all._

☆彡

“Sehun, I…” Junmyeon starts, whispering as the artificial white lights from airplane cubicle make his eyes twinkle, but kill any slight blush Junmyeon may have had to his cheeks, sadly, “thank you… This… This matters a lot to me.” He gingerly takes Sehun’s big hand in his smaller ones, holds it delicately, carefully.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sehun whispers back at him, lips curling in a small, secretive smile as a robotic voice suggests them to buckle up.

☆彡

It’s night when they land.

Junmyeon, way too sleepy to function as a proper human being, loses all his usual composure and leans onto Sehun all the way from the airport to the cab Sehun’s hired for them, muttering complete nonsense about the guy— _Chanyeol_ , and about Sehun being a nice lamppost. The nicest, even. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

He didn’t miss Junmyeon fanboying over some rapper, honestly.

Sehun, he’s tired, too. Very fucking tired, not necessarily physically speaking. Rather depressed, also, thanks to his masochist love for self-abuse and a playlist full of hopeless talk and complicated metaphors that should’ve been deleted ages ago. So, he doesn’t answer Junmyeon’s questions about how he even manages to make such a nice lamppost, for the first time since… _Ever_ , and tries not to dwell too much on just how warm Junmyeon’s small frame feels against his, tries to focus on the street ahead of him, on finding the right cab and not getting lost in Tokyo of all places at such a late hour because of his useless, troublesome feelings.

☆彡

Thirty or so minutes later finally sees him and Junmyeon standing in front of the door to their soon-to-be shared hotel room, the rusty keys to its door cold and unpleasant as they dig into the skin of Sehun’s hand. The slight pain, it’s not nearly enough to extinguish the fire of Sehun’s uneasy, intrusive thoughts.

Junmyeon is positively half-asleep on his shoulder now, and he’s kind of heavy, too, but Sehun couldn’t care less, used to his weight after years of Junmyeon splaying all of himself on Sehun whenever they were to share a bed. Which was, for lack of a better term, _often_.

“Sehun…” Junmyeon grumbles sleepily, “…where are…”

“We’re at the hotel,” Sehun says, voice surprisingly low compared to Junmyeon’s. He adjusts his hold on the other, an arm circling Junmyeon’s thin waist as support. It feels exceptionally small in his grasp, and Sehun wonders how Junmyeon can manage to keep such a perfect waistline with how many slices of strawberry cake he eats daily, “I hired a cab to take us here when we were still at the airport, hope you don’t mind,” he speaks on, leading Junmyeon into the room when he finally manages to unlock the cheap looking wooden door.

At first sight, the room just seems overly small and cramped for two people, the double bed in the middle of it taking it up almost entirely, but it’s the little things that give it character; the slightly moldy curtains by the window, the matching little lamps placed on both bedside tables, the ruined white door to the toilet, its small, old looking balcony.

Sehun smiles wearily at the sight of the double bed. _Junmyeon is always so thoughtful with whatever he does_ , he thinks, smiling down at the other almost sleeping on his shoulder.

The room is just the bare minimum two people could need, and it could definitely be _better_ , but it’s _enough_. Sehun makes Junmyeon sit on the bed and take off his shoes before he falls asleep on him again, pats his head affectionately when Junmyeon pouts sleepily up at him.

“Sehunnie…” Junmyeon groans, frowning, “get changed, it’s late…” He scolds Sehun, trying to glare at him. More than a glare, it looks like he can’t manage to keep his eyes open.

“Do that yourself and I’ll do it too,” Sehun smirks mischievously, waiting for Junmyeon to manage to take his coat off before doing it himself.

“Brat…” Junmyeon mumbles without any bite in his voice as he starts to undress lazily, throwing all his clothes on the floor without a single care in the world.

It’s an amusing sight, Kim Junmyeon of all people, the ever-so-diligent person he is being so careless about his possessions, throwing clothes around and stumbling over his words.

Sehun tries not to grin too hard when Junmyeon roughly pushes him down onto the bed by his side, cuddling up to him for warmth with his eyes already closed and his cheeks pink.

☆彡

Their first day in Tokyo is spent holed up in their room, cuddling close together for warmth in between snippets of soft yet deep conversation and several toilet breaks.

And Sehun’s never felt more at home, lying in a bed that isn’t his, locked up in a hotel room somewhere in a district he’s never visited, a city he’s never seen if not on geography books or SNS advertisements, with his best friend of twelve years, the person he would dare calling the love of his life if only he could bring himself to speak up when the lights are on, _coward_.

☆彡

On the second day of their stay, Sehun wakes up to the sound of rain hitting the windows and the amusing sight of a freshly risen from sleep Junmyeon pouting at the menacing gray clouds obscuring the skies.

If Sehun wasn’t feeling so sleepy still, he would probably coo at him. Junmyeon’s always so _cute_ , even without trying.

“Sehunnie, please tell me I’m still asleep and this is just a nightmare,” Junmyeon deadpans, voice raspy and low, squinting at the window.

“I-I’m afraid it’s not…?” Sehun answers, scratching the back of his neck, staring helplessly at a still pouting Junmyeon. He looks upset. And while it’s definitely cute, because it is, Junmyeon was supposed to be enjoying himself. He was supposed to be all smiley and happy and to fanboy over that Chanyeol guy.

Sehun has to suppress a groan. _Obviously_ , of all the days it could’ve rained, it had to when Sehun was in town. Not that he’s surprised. After all, he wouldn’t be himself if something didn’t go terribly wrong at least once per week. What doesn’t rub him the right way, is that it’s influencing _Junmyeon_ , too.

“Myeon,” Sehun speaks up tentatively, biting his lip, “you want me to do your makeup?”

“…What?”

“Your makeup.” Sehun repeats, breaking into a sweat, “we share a Twitter account, I can see what you retweet. And since we can’t go out today, and I know my way with brushes, I could, you know, recreate one of those looks for you, if you… Want…?” He smiles awkwardly at Junmyeon, suddenly feeling warm.

Junmyeon just stares at him for a while, big eyes wide and lips pouty, and Sehun’s almost sure he’s fucked things up royally, but then Junmyeon’s face lights up and his pout morphs into a beautiful smile, all white teeth and pink lips.

“I would _love_ it! Oh my God, Sehunnie, you’re truly a genius. I was two seconds from throwing myself out of the window, or something,” Junmyeon rants, jumping out of the bed and onto his bare feet, padding around the room looking for his phone, “I saw a couple pictures, a while back, the colors were _so pretty_ ,” when he finds the phone in the pockets of his jacket, Junmyeon takes it and hurries back to the bed, “hold on, let me find them.” He holds out a hand, smiling excitedly.

Sehun sighs, lovesick.

☆彡

When they finally decide to go downstairs to eat lunch, having completely skipped breakfast in favor of finishing Junmyeon’s makeup, now complete with mascara, baby blue eyeliner, pink blush and highlighter and clear lipgloss, the old lady at the reception compliments Junmyeon’s look, motioning him closer and taking him by the hands as she gushes over the way the lipgloss brings out his plump lips.

Junmyeon is smiling so _bright_ , conversing happily with the woman as she showers him with praises, and Sehun feels his insides metaphorically _melt_ into a puddle of goo at the spark in Junmyeon’s dark, deep eyes.

After a while, the lady asks Junmyeon something, smiling mischievously. Junmyeon whispers back an answer, turning to Sehun with a secretive smile plastered on his pretty face, lipgloss-slick lips glistening sensually.

It sets Sehun’s blood on fire.

☆彡

Tokyo shines so bright at night, it’s breathtakingly beautiful; all those lights, colorful banners, cars, shops, weird, quirky outfits Sehun’s not used to seeing back in Korea.

The skies cleared up around six pm, so Junmyeon pleaded Sehun to _please go out, let’s go out, Sehunnie, I wanna see Tokyo at night, please_. And obviously, Sehun couldn’t help but cave in to Junmyeon’s pouty pleadings.

He almost loses himself in the brightness of those colors, in the liveliness of the city surrounding him, big, loud. In the foreign smells and in the different people walking down the crowded streets, clothes just as bright as the city itself, but then Junmyeon casually latches onto his arm without any sort of warning and Sehun’s attention is back on him and him only.

_Junmyeon_. Junmyeon looks so out of his element, honestly, out of place. He doesn’t fit in a city so big, loud, chaotic. The light, pastel hues of his clothes, they surprisingly don’t match all that well with the general aesthetic of the city, way too soft for such strong backgrounds. ( _Or perhaps they do, and Sehun is just biased_ ).

In light of Sehun’s epiphany, the city suddenly doesn’t look as beautiful anymore. Sounds get too loud, smells get too strong and colors get blinding rather than bright. As he shamelessly stares at Junmyeon and the lights reflecting in his eyes, Sehun eventually misses home, Junmyeon’s silent living room, the sound of fingers typing away on keyboards and the smell of cup noodles clashing with the softer, sweeter scent of Junmyeon’s flowery conditioner.

And then, Sehun realizes. It’s not really about mismatched clothes, nor loud cars and machines and strong smells that make him nauseous.

It’s just Junmyeon. _Junmyeon_. He doesn’t fit in such a place because it’s way too fake to have anything to do with him, small, beautiful, genuine.

And all those colors, so bright, blindingly so, they’re just that tad too artificial to mean anything. A waste of electricity, money if you may. It’s fake. _Fake_.

But Sehun, he’s here for Junmyeon. So he wills any dangerous thoughts away, plasters on a smile just as fake as all those colorful banners telling nothing but lies, and tries not to give in to the need of holding Junmyeon’s hand in his as they walk along those crowded, loud streets Sehun thought he would’ve only seen on the Internet.

☆彡

“What do you think of Tokyo, Sehunnie?” Junmyeon asks him a couple streets down, a big smile brightening the soft, familiar features of his face. The lights from the multitude of shops scattered all over the street reflect beautifully in Junmyeon’s dark eyes, grace Junmyeon’s warm brown hair an artificial purple-ish hue that looks almost _too_ good on him for Sehun’s humble liking, regardless of the way it clashes with Junmyeon’s softer appearance.

“It’s…” Sehun loses himself in the excited glint in Junmyeon’s deep, bottomless eyes as they stare intently at him, waiting for an answer, “…Beautiful.”

Needless to say, Sehun wasn’t really talking about Tokyo and all its colors and noises and smells at all.

☆彡

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Sehun asks Junmyeon, voice small and light as he lies in next to him in bed, back at the hotel, khaki covers keeping them warm. It’s awfully cold inside their crappy, 5000 yen hotel room, but thankfully the duvet’s thick and big enough to shield them both from the cold.

Junmyeon looks really cute right now; all pink cheeks and red nose, eyes glassy— he’s always been sensitive to the cold. And that’s why, Sehun supposes, Junmyeon loves to drown himself into thick, long scarves and jackets three sizes bigger than his regular when days get shorter and leaves start to fall.

“Yeah, I… I just… Can’t really believe it, you know?” Junmyeon whispers, warm breath hitting Sehun right in the face, making him blush because this sort of proximity with Junmyeon is something he’ll probably never get used to, “like… I’m seeing Chanyeol. I’m seeing Park Chanyeol tomorrow, in real life this once and… And you’re here with me… I really, really appreciate this, Hunnie.” He breathes out, a dreamy, blissful expression plastered on his face. He smiles, then, takes Sehun’s cold hand in his warmer one under the covers.

And Sehun dares thinking Junmyeon may be worth it all, that he may just be that one person he would actually trust himself fighting for. Sehun, he feels love, _loves_ through the way his fingers entwine with Junmyeon’s in the dark of their cold, crappy hotel room.

“Just for you, Jun…” It’s soft. It’s all so _soft_ it almost feels weird, from Sehun’s voice to Junmyeon’s gaze, from the way their hands stick to one another perfectly to the comforter hugging the cold away from their bodies.

And Sehun doesn’t lie, no. Especially not this late at night. Especially when it’s Junmyeon staring at him like he’s not just the basket case everyone thinks he is, like he matters, like he’s worth at least _something_ in this big ass world that just _doesn’t care_.

“It’s so fucking cold in here, Sehunnie, what the fuck…” Junmyeon mutters after a while, unwillingly forcing Sehun out of his love-induced trance. Sehun laughs softly at his words, looks Junmyeon straight in the eye as the latter laughs back at him, just as softly. Their laughter fades slowly, gradually melting into the silence of the half darkness surrounding them.

“Can you hug me to sleep, Sehunnie? It’s been so long…” Junmyeon mutters again, voice even softer this time, a mere whisper in the silence of their dark, cold and crappy hotel room, and Sehun’s heart shatters and gets shaped back to life all at once, starts to gallop happily in his chest as Junmyeon looks up at him with those big, glassy eyes of his Sehun’s always been so weak for.

It’s only been a couple days since they’ve last shared a bed, but it’s been cruelly long since they’ve last cuddled each other to sleep, that time probably being a good six months ago.

And Sehun hopes, he truly hopes the darkness of the room is enough to hide the blush slowly making its way to his cheeks as he mumbles back a pathetic ‘ _sure_ ’. voice breaking under the unbearable weight of his feelings.

As Junmyeon faces the opposite direction and tentatively scoots closer to him under the covers, Sehun holds out his arms and wraps them around Junmyeon’s waist, having to hold back a growl when it feels so tiny and perfect in his arms, like Junmyeon was made to fit there, in Sehun’s loving hold.

He tries to relax, closes his eyes and cuddles closer to Junmyeon’s warm, inviting body like they always did when they were younger. Junmyeon makes a little content sound in the back of his throat at that, resting his hands over Sehun’s fairly bigger ones, making himself look and feel even smaller to the other.

And it’s not perfect— it’s way too cold in that fucking room, the mattress is too hard and they’re wearing far too many layers to actually feel, and Junmyeon, he most likely doesn’t harbor any kind of even just slightly romantic feelings towards him, but Sehun thinks that ‘ _perfect_ ’, it might just be.

☆彡

The night sky slowly fades into pale hues of purple, pink and yellow, and morning eventually comes, cruelly shattering Sehun’s soft, pathetic dreams of Junmyeon possibly reciprocating his feelings.

Sehun wakes up to shy morning light filtering through the broken blinds by the window and landing right next to his face, to the smell of dust and cheap furniture in the air and the familiar warmth of Junmyeon’s solid body cuddled up to his.

When he reluctantly opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of a sleeping Junmyeon tightly holding onto him, arms secured around Sehun’s waist and short legs tangled with his. He’s warm, _so_ warm, and Sehun kind of wants to bury himself into his body and never come out.

Junmyeon looks extremely peaceful when he sleeps, plump lips slightly parted and face relaxed, not a single hint of the tiniest frown between his thick eyebrows. His hair also looks very, very soft, and Sehun has to kill the primal instinct urging him to card his fingers through it.

The silence and the surreal quiet of their surroundings make it all feel almost like a dream of sorts, along with the softness of Junmyeon’s facial features, the unfamiliar setting and the pale morning light shyly, tentatively filtering through the blinds of their cheap 5000 yen hotel room.

Sehun feels pure, unadulterated _love_ thrumming quietly underneath his skin, crawling towards his heart and making it go hardwire. After a while spent staring longingly at Junmyeon as he sleeps without a care in the world, Sehun can’t even feel the coldness of the room anymore, just plain content running in his veins.

He feels immensely powerless as he stares down at Junmyeon like a creep, feels himself softening under the weight of his feelings towards his best friend.

Selfless at best, because Junmyeon actually does come first, in times like this, as he stares at Junmyeon’s sleeping face Sehun wishes he will find someone that truly loves him as he deserves to be. Someone that will cherish him, adore him enough to make him feel good with himself.

When he feels like he’s about to cry, eyes starting to sting and a hundred different thoughts running in his mind, he wills the tears away, shaking Junmyeon gently to wake him up. For how much it physically hurts Sehun to break his quiet, it’s already half past nine, and Junmyeon never, _ever_ eats breakfast later than ten.

“Myeonie…” Sehun calls softly, hand resting on Junmyeon’s forearm, “Myeon...”

“…Mmmmh…?” Junmyeon groans lightly, still facing the other way, voice raspy and thick with sleep, “…Se… Sehunnie…?” He asks, turning to him.

Sehun’s chest hurts.

“It’s time to wake up, Jun,” Sehun can’t help the fond smile suddenly making its way to his lips, because Junmyeon is just so cute, especially in the mornings, when he’s clueless, completely out of character and even softer than usual.

“W-what time is… What time is it…?” Junmyeon groans out again, closed fists going to rub at his eyes, wiping the sleep away.

“Nine thirty.”

“…Am I late…? I am late, aren’t I…” Junmyeon mumbles, throwing an arm over his face. He makes a weird whining noise of frustration, muffled by the sleeve of his sleep shirt, and reluctantly wakes up, not sparing Sehun a glance.

“I’m taking a shower…” he grumbles, walking off while carelessly pulling his shirt up and over his head.

Sehun stares. He _stares_ at Junmyeon’s milky white skin as long as he can, as Junmyeon stumbles his way across the room, until the bathroom door gets harshly shut in his face and rudely pulls him back to earth.

☆彡

Sehun’s phone rings just as the sound of the shower being turned on can be heard, Fall Out Boy’s “ _A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More Touch Me_ ” startling Sehun out of his thoughts, again— _thankfully_. Otherwise, not too pure images of a naked, wet Kim Junmyeon would’ve started bombarding Sehun’s mind—

“Hello…?” Sehun answers the phone with a groan, not bothering to check the caller’s id. He’s got half an idea who it could be already, anyway.

“ _Sehunnie! Lover boy, how’re you doing?_ ” Byun Baekhyun’s annoyingly obnoxious voice yells through the speaker, making Sehun cringe with how loud it is. He pulls his phone away from his ear, not wanting to experience Baekhyun’s high notes this close ever again.

“Baekhyun.” He deadpans in lieu of a greeting. It’s a mystery how Baekhyun manages to be so cheerful even this early in the morning, and Sehun hates every part of it.

“ _Oi, Sehunnie. Is this even how you greet your hyung? Your bestie? Don’t tell me you’re not doing fine…_ ”

Sehun raises his gaze to the ceiling. He stares at the cracks running along its expanse, at the small dips where the plaster has inevitably fallen off.

“Could be better.”

“ _It’s because of Junmyeon, isn’t it?_ ” Baekhyun sighs through the phone, “ _obviously it is. You know what, Sehunnie? Fuck that old hag. You’re young and gorgeous and you’re in Tokyo of all places! Have some fun, meet someone new! You’re going to the concert tonight, right?_ ”

“Yeah, we are. I don’t even know which train to take to get to the place, by the way. The Internet says it’s not the most luxurious venue, and the block itself is sketchy. What kind of band even are these guys, Baek?” Sehun asks, annoyed.

“ _They’ve just debuted, Sehun. Your dear emo bands were like this, too, at the beginning. Not everyone can sell out an O2 concert a couple months into their career. If you hate Chanyeol, and you’re jealous of him, just admit that._ ”

“I do hate the guy, Baek, I’m fucking jealous as _shit_ and I’m not afraid to say that out loud. I don’t even know why Junmyeon’s so head over heels for him. Ah, right, I wanted to ask you, is he Korean? ‘Cause his name sure sounds so.”

“ _Yeah, he is._ ”

Sehun’s mind blanks.

“Then why the fuck has Junmyeon dragged me all the way to Japan to see that… that elf when we could’ve just gone to their Seoul concert? In that sketchy, deserted alley of all places? I don’t want to take Junmyeon there, what if… What if someone _kidnaps_ him!?” Sehun’s whining by now, he knows he is. But he’s come to the point where he doesn’t even care anymore, honestly.

“ _Sehunnie, calm down. It’s going to be just fine, you’d never let anyone kidnap Junmyeon just like that,_ ” Baekhyun reassures him, “ _and, there must be a reason Junmyeon’s dragged you all the way to Japan out of the blue. Try seeing the bright side of things for once, babe, you always make things so bad for yourself…_ ” Baekhyun sounds sad all of a sudden, his voice turning smaller. Sehun almost smiles when he feels the concern lying behind his words, but there’s nothing to smile for, right now.

“Junmyeon loves traveling, Baek. Maybe the concert was just an excuse to get out of our shitty town for a while. And his parents wouldn’t let him do that alone, you know that too. That’s why he asked me to tag along.” _The little fucker knew I wouldn’t have said no_ goes unsaid.

Sehun can almost feel the pout through Baekhyun’s exasperated words, “ _even if that was the case, it’s still Tokyo! Do you have an idea how beautiful the place is? Try and enjoy it a bit, at the very least. Plus, you’re seeing EXO live! Their music is not that bad, let me tell you._ ”

“I listen to fucking My Chemical Romance.” Sehun deadpans.

“ _Time to broaden your horizons, then! And— oh, say hi to Chen for me! Tell him Strawberry Muffin Baekkie misses him! Have fun, Sehunnie!_ ”

“Time to broaden _my ass_ — wait, what? Baekhyun, who the _fuck_ is— W-where do you think you’re going—!”

Baekhyun hangs up, and Sehun’s left staring dumbly at his phone, wondering who on earth this Chen even is and why Baekhyun seems to know about a ridiculous amount of things Sehun doesn’t.

☆彡

Sehun can’t help but stare at Junmyeon as he slips out of his bathrobe and changes, no matter how much he hates himself for that.

He feels dirty. So, so dirty. _Dirt_. Deep, deep down, right on the bone. And no matter how hard he scrubs at it, it won’t go away. He knows, he knows _well_ he shouldn’t invade Junmyeon’s privacy like that, and that he should probably run off to the toilet or something and hide forever— but Junmyeon, _Junmyeon_. He’s just standing there, in the middle of their _shared_ room stripping down to his briefs without a single care in the world.

Maybe it’s because they’ve been friends for long, so, so long, Sehun thinks. Maybe Junmyeon trusts him enough not to feel ashamed baring himself in front of him like that.

Junmyeon’s body is utterly beautiful, and has always been. All fluid curves and dips and soft, milky white skin, so similar to Sehun’s it’s always heartbreaking seeing how well they blend together, when they’re holding hands, when Junmyeon’s hand finds a home onto Sehun’s bare thighs in summer.

Junmyeon is not at all skinny, and Sehun knows that’s what lies behind the frown that always makes its way between Junmyeon’s eyebrows as he looks into the mirror, stares at his reflection like there was something _wrong_ with it.

And Sehun, _oh_ , Sehun _hates_ that. Because Junmyeon should love himself just as much as he loves him. Should love his body just as much as Sehun does, should feel proud of how he looks, because he’s so utterly beautiful even at 10 am, without even trying.

And regardless of how dirty it may sound, Sehun’s dreamed of sinking his fingers in Junmyeon’s soft, inviting thighs for _so long_ now, dreamed of worshipping him and his ethereal, imperfectly perfect body like they deserve to be.

But what’s born a dream stays a dream, and he’s _still_ staring at Junmyeon carelessly walking around in his briefs like he even had the right to lose himself in the dip of his waist. It’s funny how much Sehun hates himself lately, doesn’t seem to get one thing right. They say love shouldn’t make you feel this way, but love has always been everything but fair, especially to Sehun, and he refuses categorically to trust empty, poetic words told little girls in castles by people that never knew better.

Love is not half as beautiful as they make it out to be, and that’s for sure.

At least, though, Junmyeon’s raw beauty makes up for it.

“Junmyeon,” Sehun calls, voice steady, eyes sharp. Junmyeon looks slightly confused as he turns to him, perhaps he’s heard a tinge of something unusual in Sehun’s voice, or he might have noticed something that goes beyond Sehun’s usual stoic expression, “I suggest you put on something, it’s barely 63 degrees in this room.”

Junmyeon flushes the prettiest shade of pink, mouth gaping like he really wasn’t expecting this, and Sehun has to suppress a delighted smirk from making its way to his lips when Junmyeon hurries to throw on a random sweater lying around— _Sehun’s_.

☆彡

The best thing about Tokyo is that no one actually pays attention to you, way too distracted by the bright colors and pretty cartoon girls stuck to most of its buildings’ walls to even just _see_ you. And this statement is exactly what prompted Sehun to actually go all out, for one.

He’s wearing red eyeliner today, so that it matches with his red cargo pants full of chains, its bright shade in great chromatic contrast with his fair skin and the black leather of his jacket. His _New Rock_ boots are heavy against the faded asphalt of the street, the sounds they make when they hit the ground at every step Sehun takes uncomfortable yet grounding. Today, Sehun almost feels confident, almost feels _good_ in his skin. It’s truly a liberating feeling, walking around without people throwing weird glances at you, your clothes or your make up.

Junmyeon, too, decided to try out a more daring look, probably prompted by Sehun’s clothing choice; a skirt. A pink, rather short _skirt_ with a black leather belt hugging his waist tight and white knee-highs and suspenders, _suspenders_ covering his legs up to his knees, along with a black fur coat Sehun’s never seen him wear before - _sadly, because it does wonders to Junmyeon’s figure_ \- and a white long sleeved top underneath. He’s wearing one of Sehun’s chokers, too, a baby pink one with the shape of a heart in its middle, and it’s hard not to stare when it awfully feels like a mark of belonging of sorts on him.

“Sehunnie, I’m thirsty…” Junmyeon whines, pouting as he shakes Sehun’s arm, which he was previously holding onto. _Yeah, me too, Jun_ , Sehun thinks, staring hard at Junmyeon’s exposed, milky thighs, “how about we go get some boba? I mean, like, I hate it, but I want to feel that thrill that makes people drink that tasteless mix of coffee and tea and whatever those round things that get stuck in the straw are.”

Sehun snorts, fond, “you absolute _weirdo_ ,” he mumbles, pinching Junmyeon’s pink round cheek in between his middle and index fingers with a delighted little smirk on his lips. Junmyeon just lets himself be babied, pout deepening as he glares at Sehun in mock anger, “why would you even hurt yourself like that? That thing tastes like absolute shit.”

“Shut up, you emo vampire…” Junmyeon mumbles back, looking every bit like he’s trying so hard to hide a playful smile back.

“I would rather drink your blood than that repugnant mixture of drinks that shouldn’t be mixed together, honestly,” Sehun doesn’t even register his words before they’re suddenly slipping past his lips, and he just blinks down at Junmyeon dumbly when he notices what he’s said, and Junmyeon blinks back at him. To say that Sehun’s _mortified_ would be an understatement.

“…Woah.” Junmyeon breathes out, eyes wide, “that was…”

“—Inappropriate.”

“—Weirdly sexy.” Sehun and Junmyeon say at the same time, making them both stop in their tracks. Sehun’s mind is racing as it tries to take in the new piece of information, and Junmyeon is looking twice as mortified as Sehun felt just a couple minutes prior.

“You… You have a blood kink?” Sehun splutters, voice embarrassingly high-pitched and strained. Junmyeon’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink.

Junmyeon’s mouth remains shut. Sehun takes it as a _yes_.

“Oh lord,” Sehun breathes out, trying to bring the idea of Junmyeon and the one of blood kinks at peace in his head. It doesn’t work, obviously, given Sehun himself is the one to run an aesthetic blog on Tumblr about My Chemical Romance’s albums and he doesn’t have any blood kink of sorts.

_Red Velvet… Girl groups… Pokémon… Eevee… Blood… Kinks…_

Junmyeon makes no sense at all. Right when Sehun thought he was the walking paradox of the two.

“I fucking love you.” Sehun says, pointing his index finger at a still blushing Junmyeon’s chest, “I can’t fucking believe it. You’re such a precious being. _Oh my God_.” He laughs, and it brings a smile to Junmyeon’s reddened face, too. He looks cute.

“Now, let’s go get that disgusting drink you want to try so bad,” he says, jutting his chin out at a bubble tea shop a couple shops ahead of them, “but we’re sharing, ‘cause I categorically refuse to let you drink an entire cup of that atrocity by yourself and I can’t stand the idea of doing it myself.”

Junmyeon laughs airily at Sehun’s words, linking their arms as they make their way through the sea of people flooding the street with big, matching smiles plastered onto their faces.

☆彡

“Woah, this really does taste like shit,” Junmyeon says after taking a sip from the straw, cringing. He looks absolutely _beautiful_ like that, but it’s not like he needs to know it. Especially because generally, a person making such a disgusted expression would look just ugly to someone else.

But Junmyeon is not just ‘ _a person_ ’ and Sehun is not just ‘ _someone else_ ’, so Sehun has to physically hold himself back from cooing at Junmyeon and reaching out to pinch his cheeks, or worse, _kiss him_.

“Hand me the thing,” Sehun says, trying not to give in to the love running in his system and twisting his thoughts, “I wanna taste it too.”

Junmyeon wastes no time with getting rid of the cup in his hands, putting it in Sehun’s instead, “I regret everything, Sehunnie, you were right.” He says, admitting defeat.

Sehun smirks, “told ya,” he says mockingly, sticking his tongue out at Junmyeon childishly. When Junmyeon pouts at him, Sehun just smirks and closes his eyes, taking a sip from the cup himself. When he does, the smirk is wiped off his face in seconds.

“Oh, _fuck_ , it’s even worse than I remembered,” he says, “what does it even taste like? Why does it taste like _weed_?”

Junmyeon laughs. Sehun laughs back reflexively.

“How do you know what weed tastes like, Hunnie?” Junmyeon asks, his laughter fading and leaving back the shadow of a smile on his lips.

“I know the smell. Like, do you ever associate smells with tastes? Those things are like, really close—“ Sehun starts explaining, eyes shining as he talks and talks and talks.

He’s so engrossed by his own speech that he totally misses the longing stares Junmyeon throws his way from time to time, lovesick eyes shining with affection.

☆彡

“Oh my God— _Oh my God_ Sehun it’s so cute! Sehun, _Sehun!_ ” Junmyeon exclaims, taking Sehun by the arm and leading him to a very bright and colorful looking claw machine— it’s pink. _Pink_. And it’s so Junmyeon like that Sehun doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh, cry, or both.

Junmyeon looks so enthralled as he points at a _Sylveon_ plushie looking all sad and abandoned behind the machine’s glass, finger twisting weirdly as he pushes it onto the glass in a way that can’t not be hurting him, and before Sehun can even open his mouth, Junmyeon’s already voicing his thoughts in a shrill, rather annoying voice, “ _Sehun_ , Sehunnie it’s my Irene!”

_Irene_ is the name Junmyeon gave his beloved female _Eevee_ on _Pokémon X_ once he finally managed to make it turn into a _Sylveon_ after a good three weeks of trying and failing miserably and the ridiculous amount of self-deprecation that came with it. ‘ _Irene_ ’ also obviously was inspired by the Pokémon’s human counterpart, who just casually happens to be Junmyeon’s ‘ _bias_ ’, as he calls her, in Red Velvet, his ‘ _ultimate group_ ’. Not that Sehun ever understood what all those terms actually mean.

“You want it?” Sehun finds himself asking after a while spent staring at Junmyeon making heart eyes at the plushie, words making their way past his lips before he can even notice what he’s saying. It makes no sense, because compared to Junmyeon, Sehun is, for lack of a better term, poor as _fuck_ , and God knows what Junmyeon may be thinking of him right now, but it doesn’t matter all that much when making Junmyeon smile is Sehun’s biggest goal at the moment. Is he really that weak for his best friend?

_Haha, yes,_ his subconscious kindly suggests him. Intrusive little bitch.

Junmyeon just looks at him with big, big eyes full of hope and… Affection? Or something that looks like it, and Sehun wants so bad to just shower him with all the _Sylveon_ plushies and Irene photocards he could ever wish for and hug him until his arms hurt it’s not even funny anymore.

“I wasn’t… Joking?” Sehun tries, voice small and tentative as an unintentional pout makes its way to his lips, and he startles when Junmyeon scurries to wave his hands around almost maniacally.

“…No! I didn’t think you were joking! I was just—“ Junmyeon stops abruptly, looking all cute and surprised, “—you know what? Never mind. Yes, I want it. Fuck this, we’re in _Tokyo_.”

Sehun’s eyes widen comically as Junmyeon’s plump lips curse so casually, and Sehun feels hot all of a sudden because Junmyeon cursing is hot— wait, is that _love_ he feels stuffing his throat?

He shakily hands Junmyeon a couple bucks, silently, not really trusting his mouth at this point, and the determination swimming in Junmyeon’s dark irises as he inserts them into the coin hole and starts playing is sexier than many of those porn magazines he’s come across multiple times now in Tokyo and worth oceans more than Sehun’s rusty bucks.

“Come on, baby…” Junmyeon whispers, biting his lip in concentration as his hands skirt over handles and buttons with such professionalism Sehun’s not even the tiniest bit afraid of thirsting over his best friend of ten years anymore, because who can blame him for that, really.

Junmyeon’s always been like that, a weird halfway between cute and downright sexy, and perhaps it’s his charm, Sehun thinks as the shorter eyes the plushie with sharp eyes full of determination and a frown between his thick, manly eyebrows.

“I spent Sehunnie’s money for this, if you don’t—“ he starts as he presses the button, waits for the machine to do its thing. When the plushie, by some miracle, manages to make it to the end and falls into the designated hole, Junmyeon all but screams, “—we did it! Sehunnie, we fucking did it!”

Sehun smiles fondly at him, “you did it, Jun.” He corrects him.

“Yeah, I did it,” Junmyeon shrugs, reaching for the plushie, “but it was your money,” he says nonchalantly, handing Sehun the small _Sylveon_ , “so from now on, this is our child, Irene. Which means it’s yours, too, and you can totally steal it away from me when you can’t sleep.”

Junmyeon’s smile is bright, twinkling eyes disappearing into crescent moons. It takes a great amount of Sehun’s willpower not to get down on one knee and just ask Junmyeon to _please_ marry him already, especially when his small frame exudes nothing but warmth and reassurance, and that sort of stability that Sehun’s never really had.

It hits him later, than Junmyeon actually does look like _Sylveon_ , kinda, just like with every other _Eevee_ evolution, and _Eevee_ itself, and perhaps it really is Junmyeon’s child. Sehun’s, well, he’s not sure, with his t-shirts screaming bloody murder— _you guessed it, it’s My Chemical Romance,_ the chains hanging proudly off his pants and the embarrassing amount of eyeliner around his eyes that he’s got anything to do with the little, cute creature Junmyeon’s put in his hands, but it’s alright, as long as he wants to associate with him like that. Plus, he would totally start wearing pink sweaters if Junmyeon asked him to. Junmyeon’s just too kind and understanding to force him into doing something he wouldn’t enjoy, though.

_Irene_ feels light and soft in his hands, its gigantic eyes staring up at Sehun like it’s trying to communicate with him. _It really does look like Junmyeon, indeed,_ Sehun thinks as he catches the way Junmyeon’s eyes reflect the lights from the hundreds of claw machines surrounding them.

☆彡

They go back to the hotel after that, with Junmyeon claiming that he has to change into something more comfortable for the concert— Sehun _knows_ it’s not entirely about that. He _knows_ Junmyeon’s actually using that as an excuse to change into his EXO shirt without making the trip back to the hotel look like a waste of time, but that’s okay with Sehun anyway.

This once, Sehun tries not to stare. It doesn’t come as hard as this morning, now that Sehun’s mind is clouded with worries and fear.

Junmyeon is meeting _Park Chanyeol_ in less than three hours.

Sehun’s now sworn archenemy, his rival, his nemesis. That evil _elf_ that will surely try and snatch his Junmyeon away from him.

Yes, he definitely will, because who wouldn’t want a Junmyeon all for themselves? Someone that doesn’t like men, most likely. Or maybe they would want him anyway, as a friend, perhaps. After all, Junmyeon’s not only extremely pretty, so much that it’s _unfair_ , but he’s got a heart of gold and he’s possibly the best company one could ask for. And he gives good, _the best_ advice. And he’s exceptionally smart, too. The list goes on, and on, and _on_.

Junmyeon is so, so many things all at once, and Sehun, caught up in a storm of insecurities and selfish childishness, is terrified he won’t ever have the chance to experience any of them up close.

☆彡

“Sehun…” Junmyeon whispers, his hold on Sehun’s arm getting tighter, “I don’t… I don’t like this street…”

Once Junmyeon finally decided what outfit to wear— _Sehun was right. The EXO shirt was definitely the reason he made him walk all the way back to the hotel_ , he and Sehun went back out and asked around, with that little Japanese they know from school, which train to hop on to get to the concert venue. The ride wasn’t long, per se, but they had no idea what was to come next.

The train stopped a couple streets away from their initial destination, since the block is a restricted traffic zone, so now Sehun and Junmyeon are walking down the dimly lit, deserted alley that should be taking them to the infamous venue.

When Sehun turns to him, Junmyeon’s staring straight ahead, big eyes shining with fear. He’s quite the coward, after all, when it comes to these things. Sehun is even bigger of a coward than him, to be honest, but he’ll never stand a chance against that Chanyeol guy if he doesn’t act like he isn’t shitting his pants as Junmyeon holds onto him like a damsel in distress and they walk along the dimly lit, deserted alley.

“I don’t like it either,” Sehun whispers back, gaze sharpening as he frowns at the darkness ahead of them, “why are we even whispering?”

“Not to be heard, idiot!” Junmyeon whisper-yells in the cutest way, making it hard for Sehun not to yell back. Yell back that he loves him. Because he does, even as he’s risking his ass out in a street that doesn’t look any safe just to take Junmyeon to see the guy he’s in love with instead of himself. Perhaps Sehun’s more selfless than he thought he was.

“I don’t think it’s any help, Myeon…” He says, still whispering.

“Oh my God, Sehun, I regret this so much. All this for a man, what the fuck.” Junmyeon groans, walking impossibly close to Sehun.

Sehun smirks to himself.

He shouldn’t feel so proud of that. No, he _shouldn’t_ , he knows. He should feel sad because this was supposed to be a nice, relaxing experience to Junmyeon. But him admitting he regrets it, it does wonders to Sehun’s selfish little heart, makes him feel the tiniest spark of hope burning back to life in his chest.

Still, Sehun is not an asshole. Or maybe he is. Regardless of himself being an asshole, Sehun _at least_ tries his best.

“Come on, Jun, I came all the way here for you.” He tries.

“Oh, I know you did, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon starts, stopping his whispering business all of a sudden, “and that is why I kinda regret this, you know? Like, I’m dragging you to this place you most likely wouldn’t want to be just because I want to see some guy and his group playing. It’s so selfish, I fucking _hate_ it.” He says, frowning.

Sehun stills.

“Shut up, Junmyeon,” he deadpans once he’s recovered from Junmyeon’s sudden outburst, “if I’m taking you to this place it’s because I want to. I want to see you happy, I don’t give a fucking _damn_ what it takes.”

This time it’s Junmyeon’s turn to still, his hold on Sehun’s arm going limp as he stares at him with big, wide eyes, and Sehun is torn between regretting every single one of his words and being proud of himself for having finally said them out loud.

“I…” Junmyeon gapes at him, eyes glassy from the cold, “that was pretty fucking romantic, Oh Sehun.” He breathes out, serious. Sehun’s heart skips a beat.

“Shut up,” the latter says through gritted teeth, “don’t make me regret this, before I turn back and take you with me to the hotel.”

Junmyeon stays silent at that, shuffling closer to Sehun as they walk together along the dark, empty alley.

☆彡

“Is this… Is this the place…?” Junmyeon asks him, eyeing the building with wary eyes.

Sehun fishes in his pockets for his smartphone, manages to unlock it with one hand— _yes. Junmyeon’s still clinging to his other arm,_ and opens Maps. He refreshes the page at least three time just because, but there’s no doubt they’re in the right place now. Even though it may not really look like that.

The venue looks almost like an abandoned factory of sorts, old, gray, rusty. Sehun doubts a place like this is even remotely legal, but it’s fine, as long as he can help Junmyeon chase his happiness. Because he knows, past the fear marring Junmyeon’s features, it’s nothing but excitement, the spark in his big, ever-so-expressive eyes.

Junmyeon’s hold on his arm is tight, so tight that for a second Sehun believes Junmyeon doesn’t really want to let go, walk into the rusty entrance to the venue and further away from him, leaving him all alone in the dark, not exactly safe looking street as if he were nothing more than a courier of sorts. _Believes_.

But then Sehun notices the way Junmyeon’s eyes are wide as they’re stuck to the banner with Chanyeol’s band’s name, _EXO_ written in bold, red letters, and that small, barely there flicker of hope Sehun felt in his chest dies before Sehun can even think of bidding it a half assed goodbye.

And then, then he just hates himself more, because his thoughts tend to get so selfish lately it’s almost disgusting. Sehun should just let Junmyeon go, at this point. At least, Junmyeon would be happy, find his person, instead of wasting time over the hopeless basket case that is Sehun, sad, boring.

And so he does. He doesn’t hold Junmyeon back any longer, lets him slowly loosen his hold on his arm, tells him to just get inside when Junmyeon asks him if he’s okay with staying outside all alone with a worried frown between his thick eyebrows.

“Stay safe, Sehunnie, mh? Just— call me if anything happens, please?” Junmyeon’s almost whining. It’s cute, but it’s also a painful reminder of what Sehun can’t, and will never be able to experience on his own skin. In ten years’ time, Junmyeon might get married and have to cut ties with Sehun, and Sehun won’t ever be able to witness Junmyeon acting like a petulant child anymore. It’s… _Sad_.

Sehun mumbles a soft ‘ _alright_ ’ at Junmyeon’s borderline obsessive fussing— _he’s always been like that_ , and after he’s received the reassurance he was looking for, Junmyeon turns away from him, runs to the entrance with his short little legs because the show’s starting in five, shows the bouncer his ticket, turns back one last time to lock eyes with Sehun with his lip caught between his teeth, and finally gets inside when Sehun nods weakly at him.

It’s weird, how much it feels like a breakup to Sehun. Which makes no sense _at all_ , realistically speaking, since there wasn’t even any relationship to begin with, and Junmyeon’s just attending a concert without him. But Sehun’s _emo, alright? Let him be,_ and it does feel like a breakup to him, one of those regretful, painfully hard ones, and Sehun lets himself slowly fall to the ground, sit down on the dirty sidewalk, raise his gaze to the sky.

The Tokyo sky is not much different from Seoul’s, he notices, not even a single star in it. It’s suffocating, not being able to see past the thick cloud of fog and pollution obscuring it right when he needs it the most, needs some clean air to breathe and clear his thoughts.

There’s always stars outside of Junmyeon’s bedroom’s window.

Sehun hurriedly untangles and plugs in his ruined black earphones to his phone before his anxiety can break out in a full blown panic attack, puts the saddest playlist he’s ever made on shuffle, the one for the times that there’s no option b and surrendering feels like the most liberating thing he can choose amongst, and lets out a long, pained sigh to the stars, hiding away but still there, somewhere behind the mist.

He would close his eyes, lean back onto the wall and just say _fuck it_ , but there’s no wall behind him to lean onto, and he doesn’t quite trust himself closing his eyes in a place like this, so he settles for staring down at the faded black asphalt under the soles of his shoes with empty eyes.

Pete Wentz’s pained screams feel like home, though, and maybe not everything’s lost, no matter how far away happiness may seem to be right now. Maybe he can manage to keep his ass safe for a hour or so and then break into the place when the bouncer’s not looking, make sure Junmyeon’s alright and he isn’t, hopefully, making out with Park Chanyeol, and call this night a win.

_Maybe_ , he thinks, just as the song he was listening to slowly fades into the silence with one last soft note full of regret and love. A couple beats after that, another track starts playing, and Sehun doesn’t know whether he feels more like laughing or crying when he recognizes the melody.

Selfless, slow, sad. “ _The Light Behind Your Eyes_ ”, by My Chemical Romance. A timeless classic, that one song Sehun’s cried so many times to, curled up in himself on the cramped twin bed in his room, head hurting and heart breaking along with Gerard Way’s high notes, hurting even _more_. Even now, Sehun can feel the familiar prickle of tears at the corner of his eyes, burning, uncomfortable.

The song, it’s always been Junmyeon’s, in his mind. Because Sehun doesn’t care about many things, but for Junmyeon, he does. He ran all over their hometown, once, just to find a bakery that sold Junmyeon’s favorite carrot cake when he failed a test for the first time, just to see him happy again, because it hurt Sehun so bad to see him cry over a meaningless piece of paper. Sehun was sixteen, back then.

Now he’s almost twenty, but he wants to see Junmyeon smile all the same. And so he’s flown all the way to Japan, gone against his father’s will and challenged himself just for him, just for Junmyeon, just to help him see the guy he’s so obsessed with lately.

Maybe it was worth it, in the end, or maybe it was not. Maybe Sehun shouldn’t have caved in to the affection urging him to give Junmyeon all he could and listened to his father for once. Maybe he should’ve been colder to Junmyeon. Maybe he should’ve been more careful with displaying his feelings like that, so transparently, in front of his best friend of twelve years.

Regardless of that, and all the regret constricting Sehun’s throat, Sehun’s actually rather happy with himself and with what he’s done for Junmyeon. Everything else aside, Junmyeon deserves every single tear Sehun’s shed for him, every single sleepless night he’s spent daydreaming about him, for how paradoxical that might sound, and every single curse at the wind.

Because Junmyeon always tries his best to make Sehun happy, too. He hugs him to sleep when he can’t even manage to close his eyes without panicking, takes him out to eat when he’s sad and categorically refuses to bother eating any food that could be labeled as ‘ _healthy_ ’, dries his hair for him when he comes home worn out from dance practice and is on the verge of falling asleep standing after a hot, relaxing shower that loosens the tense muscles of his shoulders and makes him melt under its heat.

Sehun finally lets himself break down when the song playing in his earphones changes to Panic! At the Disco’s “ _The End Of All Things_ ” and he realizes that he’s nothing but some random emo guy in love and wants nothing more than for Junmyeon to just be _happy_ , with or without him, it doesn’t matter, not now, not anymore.

He cries. He _cries_ , just like the childish crybaby he is, and everyone always made him out to be, from social workers when he was seven and his mother was involved in a drug scandal to his father when he found him crying his heart out over Junmyeon for the very first time.

They say that going through a lot of shit when younger makes you grow thicker skin, that it’s a normal reaction to hard situations. Sehun doesn’t believe any of that.

Sadness turns into defeat when the first notes of “ _When you love somebody_ ” by Day6 play into his ears, and the song brings a fond, bittersweet smile to Sehun’s tear-streaked face when its overly whipped and romantic lyrics bring back to the surface countless memories of Junmyeon smiling prettily at him whenever Sehun would tell him he’d gotten a great mark in school, that his dance teacher had complimented him for the umpteenth outstanding performance or even after he’d tell him he was happy he had Junmyeon as his best friend.

Indeed, Sehun’s nothing more than some emo guy in love.

By the end of the song he feels slightly better, fortunately not on the verge of having a panic attack anymore. The sadness still lingers, but it’s a feeling Sehun’s plenty used to, so he just lets that be. Fighting it would just make him feel worse, _again_.

Just as he’s unplugging his earphones, Sehun hears light steps walking towards him. His head snaps up, and thankfully he’s not met with the sketchy looking 40-year-old man he was expecting, but with a blue haired guy that can’t be older than twenty-five, tall and gorgeous and looking every bit like the model he can’t _not_ be.

The guy stops right in front of him, blinking down at him with big, bright eyes that kind of remind Sehun of Junmyeon’s with how cutely innocent they look, and Sehun finds himself blinking back, not sure of what this guy wants from him, or what the hell he’s doing dressed like that in such a street.

It hits him a couple beats later, that this guy’s probably part of Park Chanyeol’s band, judging from the hair and the clothes— skin tight leather pants, a see through shirt that really leaves _nothing_ to imagination, a white leather jacket left open thrown over his shoulders and red, heeled ankle boots that look like they’ve come out of a western movie.

“You okay?” The blue haired guy asks, eyes wide with what looks like genuine concern and plump lips slightly pouty. His sweaty blue strands fall in his eyes, making him look even younger. He’s no Junmyeon, obviously, but he looks good.

It takes a couple seconds for Sehun to answer, and when he finally manages to shake himself out of his initial surprise, he can’t help but stutter over his words, “y-yeah, thank you,” he breathes out, eyes locked to the guy’s.

“Are you… Waiting for someone?” The latter asks, tentatively. And Sehun answers, just as tentatively, “yes…? I’m waiting for a… Waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, well, the concert’s just ended. Is the person you’re waiting for attending the fansign?” Blue Haired Guy asks, sounding a lot more confident than before. Sehun just nods at that, and he’s probably staring, too, because the guy suddenly looks flustered. It’s a bad habit of Sehun’s; staring at people like he’s studying the depths of their soul or something.

“I’m Kai, by the way,” he says, extending his hand for Sehun to shake, “or Jongin, whichever. If you do know me, you’ll probably know me as Kai.” He smiles.

“S-Sehun…” Sehun replies, finally shaking Jongin’s hand. Jongin is extremely humble to be the member of a band that’s starting to get known even outside of Korea, and Sehun can’t help but try and gather himself a bit, just because Jongin looks like he deserves that.

“You look sad, Sehun…” Jongin says after a while, the pout on his lips getting more pronounced as he takes in the tear tracks left on Sehun’s cheeks and the red of his eyes, “are you sure the person you’re waiting for is just a friend…?”

Sehun’s eyes widen comically at that. Because this random guy read the situation exactly for what it is in about _two minutes_ , and Junmyeon somehow hasn’t figured out that Sehun’s in love with him yet. He wasn’t expecting this at all, and he knows there’s a look of surprise on his face. Jongin must think he’s said something wrong, though, because he’s quick to make a fuss, waving his hands around almost maniacally.

“Oh my God— I’m _so_ sorry, that’s none of my business. Forget I asked anything. _Just_ —“

“It’s alright,” Sehun interrupts him, voice even, hoping it’ll make Jongin feel less at fault, because he didn’t say anything wrong, after all, “I was just… Surprised, that you picked that up so fast. Is it really that evident?”

“I— It’s just…” Jongin hesitates, “when you talked about this friend of yours you had a weird look in your eyes and a weirder voice and it just seemed… And then you look like you’ve been crying…” He sighs, squatting down to get on Sehun’s eye level, “it’s still none of my business. Just, if you care about this person, I suggest you get inside. Fansigns tend to get messy, and Chanyeol’s an awful flirt when it comes to girls.”

Sehun feels himself grow hot all of a sudden, cheeks reddening, “h-he’s not a...”

“Oh,” Jongin breathes out. He seems surprised at first, but it’s just a matter of seconds, and Sehun’s so _thankful_ when he doesn’t make a big thing out of it, “don’t worry, in that case. I’m not entirely sure Chanyeol’s as straight as he says to be, but it’s usually girls he flirts with.” Jongin smiles encouragingly, and Sehun can’t help but smile back at the raw friendliness and genuineness he sees in the curve of Jongin’s plump lips.

“Why are you outside?” Sehun finds himself asking. It’s not like he and Jongin are friends, and most likely Jongin doesn’t even _want_ them to be, but it comes easy, to Sehun, talking to him like they’re long lost acquaintances. Jongin’s awfully open, regardless of his position as an idol of sorts, and Sehun just needs someone to talk to, right now.

“Me? Oh, I just needed some fresh air, you know? That place is so cramped, I can’t believe we always have to play in such terrible venues. I’m not even sure it’s legal,” Jongin answers easily, swiftly getting back on his feet, “I have to go now, though, the fansign starts in five. Wanna come with? I can get you inside, and then you can look for that _friend_ of yours.” Jongin winks gleefully down at Sehun, eyes bright.

“I...” Sehun can’t help but stare, enraptured by Jongin’s beauty. He really does look like an idol, and while that’s not Sehun’s type ( _again, he’s not Junmyeon_ ), Jongin is really fucking gorgeous, “a-are you sure you can do that…?”

“Sure I can. I’m in the band, after all,” Jongin smiles, bending over to get a hold on Sehun’s arm and pull him up with him. Other than being ethereally beautiful, Jongin’s strong, too, Sehun notes, “come on, let’s get inside, _prince charming_.” Jongin laughs, dragging Sehun with him.

☆彡

Once they’re inside, Jongin leads Sehun through the crowd with practiced steps— _he’s probably a dancer, too,_ Sehun thinks absentmindedly as he stares at the way Jongin sways his hips as he walks, dodging people left and right, and takes him in front of a metal door that looks like it could fall down at any second.

“This is the staff door. _Technically_ , I shouldn’t let you in by this door, because _technically_ you’re a fan, and don’t worry, I know you’re not, if that Fall Out Boy t-shirt is anything to go by,” Jongin chuckles, and Sehun blushes, “but we’ll go together and I’m pretty sure no one will dare saying anything because it’ll look like you’re a guy I’m fucking and all that,” Jongin says simply, voice high and sure, as if he didn’t just say he and Sehun are supposedly fucking, basically outing himself to the very same Sehun, whom not even fifteen minutes ago he didn’t know, and that could out him to the entire world and ruin his career _forever_.

Sehun’s blush spreads further.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure your boy must be in there somewhere,” Jongin says, pushing the door open with a hand.

Inside it’s considerably less crowded than the concert hall, Sehun notes, probably because not everyone’s purchased a vip ticket, and thankfully he finds it less troublesome to breathe. Jongin leads him into the room by the wrist, saying to some staff wandering about that Sehun’s with him. The staff just nods, unbothered, and Sehun thinks it probably wasn’t even necessary to say that, but Jongin must be polite enough to do that anyway.

They walk down some dimly lit hallways that supposedly take people to the back of the room, where the fansigns are being held, and when Sehun can just mingle with the crowd and look like any other fan, Jongin lets go of his wrist and pats his shoulder with a reassuring smile on his face, telling him everything will be alright. He also slips something into the back pocket of Sehun’s skinny jeans, but it all happens too fast and Sehun can’t even check what it is before Jongin seemingly disappears into thin air.

And then, _oh_. Sehun looks up, and _there he is_ , the infamous Park Chanyeol standing there in all his 6 foot something glory, looking far more handsome and taller than Sehun with his blonde hair styled up and those sunglasses that would just look _ugly_ on him. No matter how much he hates him, Sehun has to admit the guy has the looks. And those gigantic ears of his manage not to look out of place, someway, they even _give him character_.

Chanyeol looks handsome and innocent at the same time, but not in the way Junmyeon does. There’s _definitely_ something mischievous hiding behind the corners of his charming smile, and Sehun can see just why exactly he’d be the playboy of the group.

_(To be completely honest, Sehun prefers Jongin over him. Maybe because Jongin doesn’t look like he wants to undress everyone with his eyes, and Jongin’s just… Cute and friendly, looks exceptionally small for his height, too, and Sehun doesn’t feel as intimidated by him)._

The line for Chanyeol’s the longest, and no wonder, really. But Sehun doesn’t give a flying _fuck_ about it, so he just starts to casually make his way through the sea of people flooding Chanyeol’s side of the room looking for a certain midget with big eyes and pouty lips. He gets various insults thrown his way, but again, he doesn’t care and he’s even come with Kai, _ah, if only they knew._

When he finally manages to spot small, tiny Junmyeon amongst the chaos, Junmyeon’s just three people away from Chanyeol, and the room spins for a second. Sehun has to physically calm himself down in order not to pass out from the… Whatever it is that he’s feeling right now, or worse, to refrain from punching Chanyeol straight on the nose.

Sehun’s afraid. Terrified, even. He’s afraid, _terrified_ Chanyeol will charm little, warm Junmyeon away from him and Junmyeon will never want to have anything to do with him _ever again_ , and that he’ll eventually leave Sehun all alone with his asshole father in that shitty town of theirs for the guy, to travel the world with him like he would never be able to with Sehun.

_Coward_ , his mind whispers, _you’re nothing but a coward, Sehunnie. Pathetic._

And while Sehun tries his best to calm down, failing miserably because this whole thing feels like a nightmare of sorts, his eyes catch Junmyeon’s and Junmyeon starts waving frantically at him, yelling his name to catch his attention and making at least twelve heads turn to him.

Rather useless, because Sehun’s attention was already on him, _obviously_.

Sehun throws half-assed sorry’s here and there, bows to at least twenty people before he’s finally, _finally_ standing in front of Junmyeon that looks so soft and just beautiful even after a whole hour and a half of concert in this cramped place, not a hair out of place on top of his head.

“Sehunnie!” Junmyeon greets him, smiling widely, white teeth all on display as he stretches out his arms and reaches out to hold onto Sehun’s, “they didn’t kidnap you!”

“N-no, they d—“

“I was so fucking worried, Sehunnie, you have no idea. Like, this place? Not even the inside looks safe, and you were all alone outside… _Ahh_ I hate myself, I should’ve never left you out there! Sorry, Sehunnie!” Junmyeon rants, all but yelling in Sehun’s face. It’s an endearing sight, really. Junmyeon kind of looks like a chihuahua when he screams, small and cute and totally not scary. And Sehun feels like he’s going to burst with affection when Junmyeon pulls him closer and winds his arms around Sehun’s waist, burying his face in his broad chest.

Sehun’s obsessive train of thought stops all of a sudden, and all he can feel is Junmyeon, warm and solid against his body, familiar. Over the affection he feels for Junmyeon thrumming loudly underneath his skin, Sehun can’t hear the ringing of his ears anymore.

“J-Jun, the concert— how did it go?” He struggles to ask, Junmyeon’s hold on him a bit too tight to be comfortable, but very welcomed still.

“The con… Oh, right, the _concert!_ Sehunnie, it was really amazing, you know?” Junmyeon says, smiling as he pulls away and finally lets Sehun breathe properly. Sehun kind of misses the feeling of his lungs being constricted by Junmyeon’s arms, though. Which is kind of alarming.

“Chanyeol is really fucking handsome, and his voice… _Ah_ , his voice, it’s beautiful… Even live! He sounds better in real life, can you believe it? And he looks better, too—“ Junmyeon starts gushing over Chanyeol, and while it really fucking _hurts_ Sehun to hear him get so excited over the guy, it’s also a very amusing sight, seeing Junmyeon so relaxed, spitting curse words left and right, smiling so bright.

And Sehun doesn’t really have it in him, to get upset with Junmyeon for leaving him outside all alone.

_At least_ , Sehun thinks, at least this trip wasn’t a waste of time. At least it was worth it, because it made Junmyeon smile. And smile so bright, too. It’s sad, really, it’s fucking heartbreaking because it took meeting some guy that isn’t Sehun to make him that happy, but it’s okay. It’s _okay_ , because Sehun was never any hopeful to begin with, and all he wanted was for Junmyeon to be happy.

“—and yeah, just… I’m meeting him in like three? That’s insane, Sehunnie, that’s… Thank you. Thank you Sehunnie, really, I—“

“You’re welcome,” Sehun says, managing a small smile at Junmyeon. It must show, that he isn’t really fine, but it doesn’t matter, and Sehun doesn’t care about that, not right now. _Right now_ , it’s about Junmyeon, and Junmyeon only. And Sehun has to finally grow the fuck up and be the responsible man he’s supposed to be for once, not some emo guy with way too much jealousy twisting his thoughts, “you’re two people away, Jun. Just— try to enjoy it, alright? You’re finally getting to meet him, so make it memorable, mh? I’ll be around, if you need me.”

Sehun’s voice doesn’t sound good to his own ears. A bit too low, raspy, _strained_ compared to his usual monotone voice. It’s impossible Junmyeon hasn’t caught up, figured out something isn’t right, and Sehun regrets not being able to hide his feelings better.

“Sehun—“

Junmyeon tries to call for him, but Sehun’s already blending in with the crowd, trying to calm his heart down before he passes out.

☆彡

Sehun is exactly two steps away from the door to the concert hall, heart twisting painfully in his chest and eyes stinging, when he remembers something.

“ _…Say hi to Chen for me! Tell him Strawberry Muffin Baekkie misses him!_ ”

Baekhyun. _Shit_.

Sehun raises his gaze to the ceiling in exasperation, taking a deep, deep breath before exhaling sharply as he makes his way back into the room, pushes his way through the crowd and starts looking for Jongin.

☆彡

“Alright, who’s next?” Park Chanyeol asks the people waiting in line for him, eyes dark.

Junmyeon takes a couple steps forward, and then he’s standing right in front of Chanyeol. _The Park Chanyeol_. EXO’s very own rapper and songwriter, every fangirl’s and fanboy’s wet dream, Korea’s next top model—

“Cat got your tongue or something?” Chanyeol deadpans, shaking Junmyeon out of his, well, _Chanyeol_ induced trance.

“Sorry, what?” Junmyeon asks, a frown making its way between his eyebrows, thinking, hoping he’s heard wrong.

He hasn’t.

“Oh, so you talk,” Chanyeol says, unbothered, “what’s your name, pretty? You want me to sign your forehead or something? I don’t sign dicks, by the way, that’d be _waaaay_ too much.” Chanyeol says, laughing slightly at his own words.

Junmyeon feels his mouth drop, “now, why the _hell_ would I even want you to sign my penis?” He asks, bewildered. It comes on suddenly, but he really, really misses Sehun now.

Sehun and his soft, small smiles. Sehun and his delicacy that Junmyeon’s pretty sure he doesn’t know he’s got in him. Sehun and his expressive, sincere eyes, the depth of his dark irises that always seem to hold entire universes to them.

“Dunno, man,” Chanyeol says, biting absentmindedly on a pink sharpie, “y’all fangirls and whatever are _insane_. You got any idea how many requests to sign girls’ boobs I got in two months? _Many_.” He recounts, eyes wide, “I mean, not that I mind. Like, would you? Unless you’re a homo, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t…”

“Look, I just—“

“You a homo?” Chanyeol interrupts him rudely.

“You don’t need to know about that—“

“You are, aren’t you? Why would you be here otherwise? Sorry, I won’t touch your dick for five bucks. Maybe ten.” Chanyeol shrugs nonchalantly.

Junmyeon blinks.

“No one even talked about my dick, that was you, oh my God,” he groans, exasperated, “I just wanted to talk. About your music, perhaps. Obviously, it seems too hard of a task for you, to hold even just a small, proper conversation with your fan, so I won’t bother,” he lectures, Sehun’s soft smile haunting his thoughts. He misses him so _bad_ , “I can’t believe I wasted my money for this.” Junmyeon whispers to himself, mentally facepalming.

“Hey, hold the fuck up, midget, _I_ am the celebrity, here,” he glares at Junmyeon, lowering his sunglasses to look him in the eye. He kind of looks ridiculous, honestly, because _who on earth even wears sunglasses at night, indoors,_ and Junmyeon has to physically hold back from laughing in his face. That wouldn’t be like himself.

‘ _Politeness is the key_ ’

“Not for long, if this is how you talk to your fans.” Junmyeon deadpans, eyes sharp, walking away from Chanyeol and his awful dictionary. He wants to find Sehun, quickly, and get the fuck away from this cramped, horrible place as soon as possible.

_God, he misses him_.

☆彡

“Jongin, Jongin!” Sehun starts yelling once he spots the latter, blue hair standing out against the light gray of the concrete wall behind him.

He sees Jongin say something to the girl he’s talking to, raising one finger and telling her to hold on a second before he motions Sehun over with a flick of his wrist.

“Jongin,” Sehun says again, albeit a little breathlessly, once he’s got the man in front of himself, “I need your help.”

Jongin frowns, “oh, it didn’t go well with your boy?” He asks, eyes big and shiny and lips pouty. He looks cute. Surprisingly cute. Sehun is momentarily distracted by his cuteness.

“Yeah, no, but— _no_ , it’s not about that,” Sehun is quick to correct himself, shaking his head, “a friend of mine—“

“How many _friends_ do you have exactly—“

“— _a friend of mine_ asked me to say hi to a certain guy called… Chen? For them. Can you… Can you show me who this Chen guy is?”

Jongin looks puzzled, “uhh, alright? Here,” he pulls Sehun closer, pointing at a guy with a brown mullet that can’t be any taller than Junmyeon. He’s smiling to a girl in front of him— he looks really pretty, too, just like everyone else in the band. His facial features kind of remind Sehun of Minseok, this time, delicate and cat-like, “the guy with the red bandana. That’s Chen. He’s our main vocalist. I’m not sure what exactly your friend meant by saying hi, but I can call him over for you, if you want. The line is pretty long.”

“I…” _That wouldn’t be too selfish, would it?_ Sehun asks himself. Then he remembers he _is_ selfish, so it’s not like it changes much, “y-yes, thank you.”

“Alright, Sehun, but just because your emo ass is so cute— Jongdae!” Jongin screams at the top of his lungs, catching Chen’s— _Jongdae’s?_ Attention. Much like Jongin did, Jongdae is all apologetic kind smiles as he tells the fan making heart eyes at him he’ll be back soon.

As Jongdae walks up to him and Jongin, Sehun can see just how _small_ he is. And again, he’s no Junmyeon, but he really does look pretty, and that ugly mullet looks nothing but good on him.

“Nini?” Jongdae asks, as soon as he’s standing next to Jongin, “did you need me?”

“Don’t call me that— but yeah. This is Sehun,” Jongin says, gesturing to Sehun, standing there awkwardly. He waves weakly at Jongdae, offering a just as awkward smile, but thankfully Jongdae doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles back at him, eyes twinkling handsomely.

“Hi, Sehun. Are you Nini’s boyfie?” He asks, looking at Sehun expectantly. And when Sehun just blushes under all the attention, Jongin splutters, “no! Jongdae—“ he groans, “he’s a friend. Met him outside, looking all sad and lonely. He was waiting for this guy, a fan of ours, I think, that left him outside just like that! All alone!” Jongin whines.

Jongdae cringes, “aw, man, that sucks,” he says, patting Sehun’s shoulder apologetically, “you can’t find him or something?” He asks, looking genuinely concerned for him, cat eyes wide and lips downturned. Sehun gapes at Jongdae, surprised by his unexpectedly nice attitude. How can these guys even be idols?

“I…” Sehun breathes out, “n-no, thank you for your concern. I just… I’m pretty sure a friend of mine from Korea knows you?” Sehun says, and Jongdae’s eyes widen, “his name’s Baekhyun. He told me to tell you that ‘ _Strawberry Muffin Baekkie misses you_ ’ or something—“

Jongdae gasps, just as Jongin’s eyes widen, too.

“You know Baekkie!?” Jongdae exclaims, and damn, is his voice powerful. Sehun kind of gets why he’s the main vocalist, now.

“He’s one of my best friends…?” Sehun offers tentatively, massaging his ears after Jongdae’s… _Impressive_ high note and Jongin puts a hand in front of his mouth in surprise.

“Oh my God—“ Jongdae breathes out, looking just a bit too excited about this new piece of information, “you’re… Woah, that’s…”

“Are you… Are you _together_?” Sehun asks suddenly, voice strained, “oh, shit, sorry, that sounded homophobic— I’m not! I literally came all the way here for a guy! I— it’s just… I didn’t know?”

Jongdae just laughs, making a dismissive gesture with his hand, “it’s alright, Sehunnie. You’re really cute, you know? No wonder Jongin decided to talk to you when he saw you outside, all alone,” he smiles, “by the way, yes. Me and Baek are together, and have been for a while… Thinking of that, how come we’ve never met each other?”

“I don’t know…” Sehun struggles to say, hands numbing. Images of Baekhyun and Minseok flirting like there was no tomorrow suddenly flood his mind, making the room spin. Is Baekhyun cheating on Jongdae? With Minseok? Or his he cheating on Minseok with Jongdae?

“Hey, you okay?” Jongin asks, probably noticing the sudden paleness of his face.

“Y-yeah…” Sehun stutters out, trying to gain back some composure.

“You look pale though… Do you want some water or something? It’s really hot in here, maybe you’re a bit dehydrated,” Jongdae asks him, ever-so-nice. Sehun just feels worse now, though, because Baekhyun might be cheating on this beautiful, genuinely good guy that doesn’t deserve such treatment and—

“Hold on, do you know a Minseok, too?” Jongdae asks all of a sudden, “oh, sorry, you’re not feeling well, I shouldn’t have asked.” He backtracks, apologetically waving his hands around.

“N-no I…” Sehun starts, gulping, “I know him. He’s another best friend of mine. D-do you know him too?”

“Y-yeah, I do. Didn’t he say anything to you? Like… Like Baekhyun did?” Jongdae almost looks sad, like he was expecting Minseok to say something, too. So they do know each other? Does Jongdae know Minseok’s the guy Baekhyun’s cheating on him with? But why would he look so sad knowing Minseok didn’t—

“Hold on,” Sehun says, holding out a hand and looking Jongdae straight in the eye, “are you and Minseok… Are you… With _him_ , too…?” Sehun squeaks, eyes widening.

Jongin facepalms next to Jongdae, and the latter blushes all over, looking flustered all of a sudden, “we…” Jongdae starts, “we’re all… Together?” He tries, smiling awkwardly at Sehun.

And Sehun, he’s not even that shocked, honestly. Polyamory has been a thing for longer than he can imagine, after all. As long as it’s consensual and reciprocated, there’s nothing bad about it, or to be against. What he really can’t wrap his mind around, is that he’s never noticed _anything_.

Baekhyun, one of his supposed best friends - _right after Junmyeon_ \- has had not one, but _two_ boyfriends for God knows how long, one of them being another one of his best friends, and Sehun didn’t even know about _one_ of them?

The one thing Sehun knew all along, though, is that Baekhyun is one weird guy. Fucking scary, too. And he wasn’t all that wrong, it seems. How he managed to keep a polyamorous relationship with his best friend and a famous singer a secret from Sehun for so long without the latter ever noticing anything is a mystery. And Baekhyun isn’t exactly the synonym of _subtle_ , either.

“Good for you, man,” Sehun says, patting Jongdae on the shoulder, “good for you.”

_Genius_ , Sehun thinks, bidding both Jongin and Jongdae a half-assed goodbye, _evil genius_.

☆彡

“Junmyeon! Junmyeon, you won’t fucking believe—“

“Sehun, oh my God, you don’t even know—“

They both stop, staring dumbly at each other. The lights from the lamppost scattered all over the street reflect beautifully in Junmyeon pitch black eyes, making them shine in the most aesthetically pleasing of all ways. Sehun shakes his head, “you go first,” he tells Junmyeon, sounding slightly breathless.

“ _Sehun_.” Junmyeon repeats his name, a certain urgency in his voice, “Chanyeol, he—“

At the mention of the name Sehun prepares himself for the worst. Braces himself to hear Junmyeon say he’s made out with fucking Park Chanyeol, that they’ve gotten together and that he’s going to follow him on tour and then they’re going to move together and adopt a dog and—

“—he’s a fucking asshole, oh my God,” Junmyeon says, groaning, and Sehun feels his eyes go impossibly wide as a weird sort of wicked relief washes over him, relaxing the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders, “he— he called me a midget? A midget! Fucker doesn’t have the fucking right to. Can you fucking believe it? Who the fuck does he even think he is? _You?_ Oh boy…” He rants on, running a hand down his face in exasperation, “and to think I used to support him…”

Sehun’s frozen in spot.

“ _U-used_ to!?” He exclaims, once he manages to shake himself out of the initial surprise, his voice embarrassingly high. He sounds like he’s won the lottery, he knows, but he can’t help it. Junmyeon is spitting curse word after curse word over the guy Sehun was so afraid of, going completely out of character just to roast his ass— _beautiful_.

Honestly? Fuck morals. And fuck money, too. It can’t be considered a waste if it’s made Junmyeon finally open his eyes and realize that Park is not his guy.

“Obviously. I don’t support assholes. Especially when they’re so shameless. _Oh_ , Sehunnie, you should’ve heard him talking. He— asked me if I was there to have my dick signed? _My_ _dick!_ ” He yells in disbelief, latching onto Sehun’s arm, “you’re the only man ever, I can’t believe it.” He sighs, leaning onto him.

Sehun’s positively grinning like an idiot, right now, because _fuck you Park Chanyeol, I’ve fucking won,_ and he’s even got a whole Kim Junmyeon leaning onto him like that after telling him he’s the only man ever, but he has to keep up his cool city guy appearance so he nonchalantly clears his throat and tries to get ahold of himself for the best he can. He isn’t even a city guy. Perhaps that’s why he fails miserably at trying to get his nonexistent composure back.

“What did you want to tell me, Sehunnie?” Junmyeon asks, looking up at him. Sehun falls right back to earth at that, suddenly remembering the whole Baekhyun thing and feeling like a bucket of ice and cold water was poured over his head without him knowing.

“Shit.” He breathes out, images of Jongdae, Baekhyun and Minseok possibly making out behind his back suddenly flooding his mind. He stares straight ahead as he gulps, “Myeon, Baekhyun’s fucking the vocalist.”

Sehun feels Junmyeon freeze against his body. He pulls back, getting all in Sehun’s face. At least, he looks just as shocked as Sehun feels, “what the hell?” He asks, eyes wide, “isn’t he always flirting with Min—“ realization seems to hit Junmyeon like a ton of bricks, “oh no, don’t tell me…”

Junmyeon looks _horrified_.

“No!” Sehun is quick to deny, breathlessly waving his hands around, “no, don’t worry. He’s not cheating on anyone. I thought that too, at first, but it’s not like that like, _at all_.”

Junmyeon frowns. He looks so cute it’s unfair, looking up at Sehun like that, waiting for clarification, “then what about…”

Sehun takes a deep, deep breath, and it feels all too much like a déjà vu from that night at Junmyeon’s house. He rests his hands on both Junmyeon’s small shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, “don’t freak out, okay?”

Junmyeon nods slowly, still frowning.

“They’re together. Jongdae, Baekhyun, Minseok, all of them.”

Junmyeon’s pretty pink mouth drops open, “ _what!?_ ” he screeches, taking a hand to his lips in surprise, “oh my God,” he says, “that’s so Baekhyun like. _Fuck_.” He laughs in disbelief, raising his gaze to the thick cloud of fog and pollution above them.

Junmyeon smiles fondly at the starless sky, and Sehun finds himself smiling back, arms falling limp at his sides.

“I’m happy for him, for them, honestly,” Junmyeon admits through upturned pink lips, eyes shining with sincerity, “Baekhyun’s wanted a love interest for so long…” he mumbles, moving his gaze back down and staring at the wet asphalt beneath the soles of their shoes, “…and now he has two. He must be so happy…” Junmyeon’s voice turns small, and not in a pensive, content way. It sounds defeated, almost.

Needless to say, Sehun catches the change immediately, effortlessly after years and years of practicing and mastering his ability of understanding Junmyeon’s cryptic way of expressing - _or trying not to express_ \- his emotions.

“Jun,” he calls, making Junmyeon’s gaze snap back to him, “…you okay?” Sehun asks, voice just as small as Junmyeon’s, a mere whisper in the darkness of that street that’s definitely seen better days. A strong wind starting to blow, cold, unforgiving.

It bites at Sehun’s skin, and he reflexively pulls Junmyeon closer, wrapping his arms around his smaller frame to keep him warm.

From that position, Sehun can’t see the small smile slowly creeping onto Junmyeon’s pink lips.

“ _Yeah_.”

☆彡

On the metro ride back to their hotel, as Junmyeon sleeps with his head propped on Sehun’s shoulder without a care in the world, Sehun takes out his phone and starts composing a text, the sound of his fingers tapping against the screen filling the silence of the almost empty booth.

**To: evil**

u gotta explain lotsa shit, baek

Sent: 1:36 AM

**To: evil**

y did u never tell me ure fucking both exos main vocalist and minseok?? i cant fucking believe u never even just gave me a lil hint. and minseok of all people. minseok! one of my bffs!!

Sent: 1:37 AM

**From: evil**

dae told u??? omg… asshole… and like umm yea were all fucking. hope u dont like have a problem w/ that?? sorry 4 not telling u…. u already got a lot of issues w/ the jun thing & i didnt wanna dump a whole poly relationship on u. sorry baby :(((

Received: 1:42 AM

**To: evil**

baek y would i have a problem w/ that?? only u can choose who u love. scratch that actually not even u can. but!! i was just… i dont know,, surprised u didnt tell me ab it. but i see where ure coming from. so like sorry baek u have all my support <333

Sent: 1:44 AM

**From: evil**

omg baby :(((( i lov u so much!!! mwah!! apart from this, how did the concert go??? did chanyeol steal ur jun hyung away from u??

Received: 1:45 AM

**To: evil**

it went… well

Sent: 1:45 AM

**To: evil**

as in chanyeol acted like a fuckboy & jun said not on my watch

Sent: 1:45 AM

**To: evil**

he told me im the only man ever…

Sent: 1:46 AM

**From: evil**

omg???,? go get ur man, sehunnie!!!

Received: 1:47 AM

☆彡

“You know I love you, right, Sehunnie…?” Junmyeon whispers in the darkness of their hotel room, that night, turning in Sehun’s hold so that he’s facing him. Junmyeon’s big eyes reflect the city lights like not even the clearest glass could, and Sehun half thinks he’s must’ve fallen asleep at some point and he’s actually lost in dreamland.

“I…” Is all he manages to let out. His chest constricts as his biased mind twists Junmyeon’s words until they sound dangerously similar to the ones Sehun would love to hear, from him, maybe in a better place than a cold, crappy 5000 yen room in Tokyo.

He doesn’t want to believe. He wills himself not to, because now is not the time to mull over Junmyeon’s words. It’s ass o’clock in the morning, probably three, and Sehun, now that he finally has Junmyeon in his arms, would just like to cuddle closer to the source of warmth in the form of Junmyeon’s small body and _sleep_ , but it seems Junmyeon has different plans.

“Because I do. I _do_ love you, Sehunnie…” Junmyeon adds after a while, burrowing his head into Sehun’s chest. He grips the soft cotton material of Sehun’s sleep shirt in his tiny fists, snuggles his face into Sehun’s collarbone. It’s hot. Way _too_ hot all of a sudden.

Sehun always tries his best not to believe. But in times like these, soft and intimate and lazy, Sehun can’t help but feel the tiniest spark of hope start to burn at the pit of his chest, suddenly making him feel a lot less preoccupied with the cold. It warms him up from the inside, that fire, for how small it can be.

_Junmyeon’s small, too,_ Sehun thinks as he starts to drift off, mind wandering off to sunnier, happier foreign places, _maybe that’s the reason why the fire of his hope is always so small._

☆彡

The next morning, Sehun wakes up with an uncomfortable yet comfortable— _makes no sense at all, as per usual,_ weight on his chest and pelvis, and he’s suddenly a lot more awake when he reluctantly opens his eyes and sees Junmyeon’s staring at him intently from his position on Sehun’s chest.

“What the fuck.” He deadpans, voice raspy and low, and Junmyeon just smiles at him, lips curling prettily at the edges and all. _Asshole_.

It takes a while for Sehun to actually notice the position they’re in, with Junmyeon half lying, half sitting on his—

_Oh no._

“—Junmyeon!” He yells, trying to push the smaller off his body. It’s useless, and Junmyeon is particularly strong, more than Sehun thought he’d be, as he holds onto him. The problem is, Sehun’s _undoubtedly there_ morning wood was already perfectly aligned with Junmyeon’s ass before, and all the jostling only causes his hard on to brush against one of Junmyeon’s round, soft buttocks slightly, and Sehun momentarily freezes at the flash of pleasure that runs through his body at that, making him bite back a moan.

“Junmyeon, _get off!_ ” Sehun splutters while Junmyeon just laughs like the asshole he is, eyes shining with mirth, “come on!” Sehun continues, cheeks red with embarrassment and almost whining in frustration as he tries his hardest to push Junmyeon off his body, “you don’t need me to explain _why_ , just get off me! I’m pretty sure you know already what happens to most men in the morning—!”

“S-Sehunnie, oh my God,” Junmyeon says through the laughs, tears welling in his eyes, “this is the funniest shit,” he laughs, “you shouldn’t be so flustered.”

Ten terrifyingly long seconds pass with Sehun wondering about what exactly Junmyeon means with that, the dread of hearing words like ‘ _you’re like my brother_ ’ from Junmyeon’s pretty pink lips overpowering the embarrassment that’s still running in his veins.

“I’m studying anatomy and human biology in uni. You think I’m not used to dicks?” Junmyeon chuckles, thankfully, and Sehun tries his best not to let out a relieved sigh. Still, the word _dick_ in Junmyeon’s mouth sounds a bit too suggestive, in this context, with Junmyeon himself almost sitting on Sehun’s erection without a single care in the world.

“Junmyeon, Junmyeon _please_ get off me. I’m asking nicely.”

“Only if you agree to coming shopping with me,” Junmyeon grins mischievously, “or I’ll pin you to this bed and sit on you the entire day. Come on, it’s _Tokyo!_ There must be such lovely clothes in shops in Harajuku! Its style is so peculiar…”

_Harajuku_. Sehun already had half the mind to visit the district when they first landed in Tokyo, honestly speaking. And Junmyeon’s right, Harajuku’s style is creative and original and Sehun would really love to try and buy some new clothes he wouldn’t find back in Korea.

He’s still drained from yesterday’s events, but perhaps he could make an exception… Just because it’s Junmyeon asking, _obviously_.

“I’m beat. Aren’t… Aren’t you… Tired? The concert must’ve been pretty tough on you,” Sehun asks, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. Junmyeon coos at him.

“No, I’m not,” he answers, smiling, “you’re the baby who needs sleep, here,” Sehun whacks his arm, “just kidding. It’s just… The adrenaline from having seen EXO live hasn’t worn off yet, you know? By tomorrow I’ll probably be a walking corpse, so I want to make good use of it, until it lasts…”

Junmyeon’s voice turns smaller. Sehun catches the change immediately, so used to every one of its variations. Some, he still hasn’t put a name to, but they’re so common lately, ever since they’ve stepped foot in Tokyo.

“We’ve been here for four days…” Junmyeon mumbles, looking down at his hands on Sehun’s chest, “but I was engrossed with Chanyeol and the concert and you just… Felt so distant…”

Sehun’s heart breaks along with Junmyeon’s voice.

“We’re here for only two more days, Sehunnie. I just… I just want to make them ours…” Junmyeon whispers, cheeks pink all of a sudden, “I want to spend them with you…”

Sehun’s heart speeds up in his chest, annoying butterflies happily flying about in his stomach, and his hand instinctively goes to wrap around Junmyeon’s wrist, making the latter’s big brown eyes lock to his own.

“We’re eating breakfast and then we’re taking the fucking train to Harajuku, alright? We’ll rest more when we come back.” Sehun says authoritatively, gaze determined.

Junmyeon’s small, round face breaks in the most beautiful, bright smile, white teeth all on display and eyes crinkling at the edges, and Sehun’s never been more sure of anything in his life, before.

“Thank you, Hunnie.” Junmyeon dips down to peck his cheek with delicate lips.

For how tender it is, the touch feels _electric_ on Sehun’s skin.

☆彡

On the subway, Junmyeon sits close to Sehun, rests his head on his shoulder as he plays a round of _SuperStar SM_ on his iPhone X, background music off.

Sehun leans his head on Junmyeon’s in return, an arm instinctively wrapping around his small, delicate waist. He stares at Junmyeon as he plays, skillfully skirts his thumbs over the screen, doesn’t miss a beat. The three golden stars shining on Junmyeon’s phone screen don’t do him justice, though, and they will never, _ever_ shine as bright as he does.

“Sometimes I forget how good you’ve gotten at this game,” Sehun mumbles absentmindedly, tracing circles on Junmyeon’s hip through the hard fabric of his pink coat.

“It just takes some practice, Hun,” Junmyeon says, turning to Sehun and smiling up at him, “you could probably do better, if only you cared about playing this,” Sehun thinks of the only one time he tried playing and failed miserably, “I know you only listen to Red Velvet and Loona because I do, even if you don’t say it.”

Sehun blushes, turning his head away from Junmyeon’s searching gaze.

“I appreciate it, by the way.”

The fall silent after that. Junmyeon plays some more songs and Sehun stares at him some more. When Junmyeon nails every level, from easy to hard, Sehun smiles. When Junmyeon smiles as he gets 1st place in the weekly chart, Sehun’s smile widens, mirroring Junmyeon’s.

☆彡

“Woah, Harajuku really is as beautiful as they say!” Junmyeon exclaims, standing transfixed in the middle of the street, wide eyes shining with excitement, mouth gaping as he takes in the people walking past him and their bizarre, colorful clothes.

Next to him, Sehun smiles, fond, taking some time to have a look around himself. Everything is just so bright, even brighter than Tokyo itself already is, from the people walking down their street to their clothes, their hair, their makeup and whatever accessories they’re carrying around.

And Junmyeon looks so _happy_ , wide eyes skirting from one shop window to the other and a big, big smile showing all his small, white teeth plastered on his face.

“Everything is just so pretty…” He breathes out, enraptured by Harajuku’s colorful view.

“Have you seen anything you like yet?” Sehun asks him, frowning as the wintry sun gets into his eyes.

“…Everything.” Junmyeon answers, serious, “ _but!_ I want to try on a wig.”

Sehun chokes on his spit.

“A-a wig…?” He parrots Junmyeon’s words, bewildered.

“Yeah. With ponytails, like one of those anime girls.”

Sehun’s mouth drops to his feet.

“Oh, come on,” Junmyeon teases, punching him lightly on the shoulder, “don’t look so surprised. You better help me find a shop that sells wigs that don’t look like a mop of candy spaghetti.” He says, taking Sehun by the wrist and leading him through the colorful, out-of-the-ordinary looking crowd with a bright, excited grin on his lips.

☆彡

“How do I look?” Junmyeon asks, voice hopeful. He flashes Sehun the prettiest of all smiles, jutting out a hip and resting his hand on it, and Sehun is nothing but a goner.

He’s wearing a black wig, _with ponytails_ , and a little, pretty pink and baby blue dress full of frills and embroidery that shouldn’t look so _good_ on a guy. But it does look good on Junmyeon, indeed, and Sehun’s positive his cheeks are on fire, by now.

“You’re…” Sehun tries, struggling to find the right words to describe Junmyeon’s look. _Very fucking pretty? Sexy as hell? A walking wet dream? Literally all I could wish for and more?_ “…Gorgeous.” Sehun thinks his heart may as well beat his way out of his chest, with how _fast_ it’s pumping blood through his body, especially to his cheeks and, well, his _dick_.

“Glad you think that, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon purrs, voice airy and flirty. He walks over to Sehun with light steps, swaying his hips sensually. When he’s all in Sehun’s space, he reaches out to him, runs his hands along Sehun’s arms through the hard material of his coat, “try not to pop a boner over this, _baby_.”

Sehun’s mouth dries at Junmyeon’s words.

“You’re so cute, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon laughs airily, winking at Sehun as he makes his way back to the changing rooms with the short skirt of his dress bouncing slightly as he walks, gracing Sehun with a very pretty, very welcomed sight of his red _Flareon_ boxers.

☆彡

As Junmyeon plays another round of _SuperStar SM_ on his phone on the ride back to their hotel, Sehun can’t take his mind off Junmyeon and the way his thighs and ass looked clad in the short little dress he was trying on.

☆彡

“I want to dye my hair red.” Junmyeon states over a mouthful of fluffy pancakes on the second-to-last day of their stay in Nakano, eyes dark and determined.

They’re having breakfast at a small coffee shop across the street from their hotel, Junmyeon carelessly stuffing his face with pancakes and strawberries and Sehun having settled for a much simpler Italian style cappuccino and a couple chocolate biscuits.

“You... You want to _what?_ ” Sehun asks, almost spitting out his drink. Junmyeon just stares at him, cheeks full and brows slightly furrowed with determination.

“I want. To dye. My hair. Red.” He repeats, snatching Sehun’s cup and taking a sip from it. Sehun lets him, way too lost in the idea of Junmyeon with red hair and how _good_ it’d look on him with those pink, round cheeks of his.

“H-here?” Sehun finds himself asking, “i-in Tokyo?”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon nods, “maybe they’ll think I’m an idol and ask for pictures, or an autograph. Can you picture it? It’d be _hilarious_.” He smiles.

For one, Junmyeon already kind of looks like an idol without his hair dyed any weird color, Sehun thinks, so that’s likely to happen anyway. And then…

“You would look fucking amazing, Jun,” Sehun says abruptly, making Junmyeon’s eyes light up, “you like pink. Half your clothes are pink. And pink goes like, very fucking well with red.” He grins at Junmyeon.

“I know, right!?” Junmyeon exclaims, taking Sehun’s hand across the table. His eyes are shining so _bright_ , “red is such a pretty color, Hun. And it’s quite underrated, too, everyone just.. Takes it for granted. But it’s got so much potential?” He explains, his hold on Sehun’s hand getting tighter, “I want to give it a shot. I don’t care what my parents will say when they see me. _Fuck it._ Can we go buy some bleach and red dye when we’re done here? Pretty please?”

Sehun feels his mouth drop at Junmyeon’s words. Hearing Junmyeon swear is always such a strange yet very pleasant experience, “what’s gotten into you, Jun?” He asks, eyes wide and lips curving upwards in fascination as he takes in the sight of the determination swimming in Junmyeon’s dark irises.

“Tokyo. Yesterday, everyone was so beautiful. Their hair was dyed all sorts of weird shades and they looked so good, didn’t they? And you. You look so pretty with black hair, you know? I want to look pretty, too,” Junmyeon smiles at Sehun, resting his chin on his free hand.

“I…” Sehun answers eloquently, cheeks growing warmer, “y-you already look pretty, Jun…” he mumbles, flustered, “but if you think this will make you feel prettier… Then you should do it. You have all my support.” Sehun loosens his hold on Junmyeon’s hand slightly and laces his fingers with Junmyeon’s, “once we’re done… Once we’re done we’ll go to some random convenience store and look for all we might need, mhh?”

Junmyeon grins at him, white teeth all on display “I love you, Sehunnie.”

“Love you too...” Sehun whispers back dreamily.

☆彡

“These are all so pretty…” Junmyeon mutters, delicately running his fingers over the multitude of colorful boxes filling up the shelves.

Sehun stares, _hard_.

“Uhh, what did you have in mind, exactly?” He asks, trying not to pay too much attention to the way Junmyeon’s hands are always so light and _careful_ , to the delicacy Junmyeon always puts in whatever he does.

“I was thinking of going for… Bright red? Like, _bright_ bright. Like a streetlight,” he says, a pensive frown making its way between his eyebrows, “you think it’d be too much?”

“There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to hair, Jun,” Sehun answers, crouching down next to him, “just go for whatever shade you like best. It’s only up to you, who gives a damn about what the others think.” He says wisely, trying not to falter at the unreadable look in Junmyeon’s big eyes.

“But I do care what you think, Sehunnie…” Junmyeon pouts.

Sehun almost loses his balance, “uhm…” he coughs, “well, for one, I think a brighter shade would look a-amazing on you… Y-yeah.” He manages a lopsided smile, cheeks almost on fire.

“You do?” Junmyeon asks, hopeful, “well, then I’m going for it. Streetlight red. I’ll match with all those My Chemical Romance t-shirts of yours.” He smiles prettily at Sehun, small teeth all on display.

And Sehun is left, once again, staring at him like a fool.

“Aha, yeah…” He breathes out awkwardly, various images of Junmyeon wearing his oversized _Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge_ tee suddenly haunting his thoughts, red hair matching with the blood printed on it, “d-definitely…”

“Will you lend me one?” Junmyeon asks, peeling himself off the floor with little effort. Sehun stares, spellbound, as Junmyeon holds out a hand for him, bright smile still plastered on his face. He takes the hand he’s being offered, albeit gingerly, and Junmyeon helps him up, “I mean, I’m no you, Sehunnie, so I won’t look as good as you do in it, but I want to see if the emo look fits me, too.”

Junmyeon carefully takes one of the dye boxes from the shelf with his free hand, _Fire_ , the other one still holding Sehun’s. He reads the back of the box, squinting at the microscopic letters printed on it.

“It says it’s vegan friendly,” Junmyeon says after a while, seemingly satisfied, “I think I’m done choosing, this one’s alright. Let’s go find the checkout line, _baby_.” A charming smile.

Sehun lets himself be held and led, and it’s definitely _not_ because Junmyeon called him baby out of nowhere, _no_.

☆彡

“Oh my god, Sehun, it _burns_ —!” Junmyeon whines, looking like he could start crying any second now, eyes red and teary and thick brows furrowed.

And Sehun’s probably going to cry, too, if Junmyeon does. It always happens, and always has, ever since the first few months of their friendship. Little Sehun would have his eyes fill with warm, wet tears whenever Junmyeon was to look like he was about to cry. Sehun doesn’t know why, since he’s never really aced empathy, especially throughout his teenage years, but when it comes to Junmyeon, make the man cry and Sehun will either cry himself or break your nose.

“Come on, Jun, it’s gonna be fine…” Sehun whispers, hands shaking as he tries to be as delicate as possible, bleaching the last brown strands. When he’s done, he quickly discards his rubber gloves, throwing them in the sink, and hurries back to Junmyeon’s side by the edge of the bathtub. He sits on it, sliding impossibly close to Junmyeon, that still looks like he’s about to cry, and takes his hand in his much bigger ones.

“ _Jun_. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to cry,” Sehun says, eyes stinging at the sight of Junmyeon’s red, swollen ones. How he manages to look beautiful even like that, with his eyes red and bleach in his hair, Sehun doesn’t know, “you didn’t cry for Chanyeol. You’re not gonna cry for some ugly, cheap ass bleach, are you?” He asks, trying to make Junmyeon smile.

He does. He laughs softly through the tears in his eyes, reaching for Sehun’s free hand. He tenderly holds it in his, laces their fingers together. It’s an intimate gesture, delicate and deliberate, and Sehun feels affection thrumming underneath his skin at it, at Junmyeon’s soft, _soft_ smile directed solely at himself.

“You can’t tell me not to cry when you’re crying yourself, Sehunnie…” Junmyeon teases, voice soft and unimposing.

Sehun laughs airily, thumbs stroking the smooth skin of Junmyeon’s hands tenderly. He loses himself in Junmyeon’s glassy eyes, deep and dark and _enticing_ , heart longing for the small guy sitting next to him. His arms itch to hold Junmyeon, but he _can’t_ , with the bleach still doing its thing, so he settles for holding Junmyeon’s hands as close to himself as possible.

They look borderline pathetic, Sehun knows, but he couldn’t care less. They’re alone in Tokyo, alone in the cramped bathroom of their shitty 5000 yen room, where no one can see them, no one can pry and ruin the moment, break the dreamlike, soft atmosphere surrounding them. So he basks in the moment, in the affection swimming in Junmyeon’s dark irises like a cat in the sun, and stares into Junmyeon’s eyes until it’s time to wash away the bleach and apply the red dye instead.

Junmyeon lets him stare, lets him fuss with his hair, wash it, dye it without saying a word. He just stares at him through the mirror hanging above the sink, gaze unreadable, and Sehun is torn between hating and loving the small flicker of hope burning in his chest, reflected by Junmyeon’s dark eyes, setting his blood on fire.

☆彡

“You look…” Sehun stares, _hard_ , at the way Junmyeon’s face looks brighter now, the red of his hair emphasizing the slight blush on his cheeks, at the way the lights of the mirror behind Junmyeon’s back make him glow, at the way he finally looks like he feels confident in his skin, big eyes shining bright and plump lips curving up in the prettiest of all smiles, “…Stunning.” He breathes out, enthralled with Junmyeon’s raw, unfairly genuine beauty.

“Thank you, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon’s smile widens, his eyes disappearing into two little crescent moons, “I really like how it’s come out.”

“Me too…” Sehun whispers, cheeks turning pink.

Junmyeon just laughs at Sehun’s behavior, all but _throwing_ himself onto him and wrapping his arms around Sehun’s thin waist. He buries his face in Sehun’s chest, a big, big smile on his lips, “Sehunnie, really, thank you so, _so much_ , for everything.”

Sehun gingerly wraps his own arms around Junmyeon’s smaller figure, leaning into him. Junmyeon’s hair smells like a field of wildflowers in the spring, and his mind instantly wanders off to those long, long days when he and Junmyeon used to chase butterflies amongst the grass of Junmyeon’s grandfather’s garden, the sun setting behind their backs as they laughed at each other, gangly limbs uncoordinated and eyes brighter than the sun.

Now it’s cold outside. It’s _cold_ , and Junmyeon’s eyes have lost some of the brightness they held, back then. Sehun’s have almost lost it all. Junmyeon’s grandfather’s garden is now dry, and the sunsets aren’t as colorful as they used to be.

But Sehun and Junmyeon, they’re still the same, deep, deep down. Because Sehun is _still_ unbelievably whipped for Junmyeon, just like he was all those years ago, and Junmyeon _still_ has a soft spot for Sehun he reserves him and him only, just like that one soft spot that led Junmyeon to asking Sehun if he wanted to sleep in his bed, with him, when they were respectively twelve and nine years old and Sehun couldn’t seem to fall asleep alone in a bed that wasn’t his.

Quickly, their hug turns longing. Junmyeon’s tight hold on Sehun’s waist loosens slightly, turns more delicate, and Sehun’s big hands reflexively start to stroke Junmyeon’s back gently, deliberately. Sehun feels Junmyeon physically _melt_ against his body, and his heart starts to hurt.

“I miss you when we’re apart, Sehunnie…” Junmyeon mumbles against his chest, voice reverberating in his rib cage. His breath is warm against the fabric of his shirt, and Sehun feels hot all of a sudden.

He knows better than to believe, but Junmyeon’s making it so _hard_ for him, lately.

“Me too, Jun,” Sehun whispers back, voice excruciatingly small, holding Junmyeon closer, “me too…”

☆彡

That night, Sehun and Junmyeon sleep shirtless.

Sehun doesn’t know what prompted it— maybe it was the hotel’s staff finally letting them have a working air conditioning system, or perhaps it was the need of feeling physically closer, but either way, it’s hands down one of the best decisions Sehun’s ever taken.

Junmyeon’s skin is smooth, _hot_ against his, comfortable and soft, and Junmyeon’s hair smells like flowers. Sehun hides his face in the juncture of Junmyeon’s shoulder, breathing in his sweet, familiar scent. His lips brush against the tender skin of Junmyeon’s neck, and Sehun feels Junmyeon’s sharp intake of breath right next to his ear. It sends shivers down his spine, raising goosebumps on its wake.

It fuels Sehun’s newfound confidence, Junmyeon’s shaky exhale when Sehun noses behind his ear, and Sehun, moved by Junmyeon’s little sounds, dares leaving a light, shy kiss on Junmyeon’s jaw.

Junmyeon doesn’t push him away.

Instead, he starts stroking Sehun’s bare back with delicate, light hands, as if telling him not to stop and go on with whatever Sehun’s doing right now.

So Sehun plants tender kiss after tender kiss along the expanse of Junmyeon’s neck, his jaw, his shoulder, and slowly, Junmyeon all but _melts_ beneath him, eyes closed and breathing deep and relaxed.

Junmyeon’s hands are warm on his lower back, deliberate. His nails graze against Sehun’s milky white skin, leaving faded red trails on their wake. The slight burn from the contact only spurs Sehun on, and soon Sehun has moved from Junmyeon’s neck to his face, planting slightly wet, close-mouthed kisses on his flushed cheeks.

The gesture has Junmyeon smiling.

“You like this?” Sehun asks him, voice barely above a whisper.

“ _Mhh_ … Yeah… Go on.” Comes Junmyeon’s whispered answer, content, easy smile still on his lips.

“Alright, then…”

Sehun kisses Junmyeon’s warm skin until he falls asleep.

☆彡

For the last day of their stay, Sehun and Junmyeon decide to take it easy, taking a healing stroll down the colorful, crowded streets of Nakano.

Junmyeon’s hand slowly but surely finds Sehun’s as they walk, as close as humanly possible, and entwines with his. It’s grounding, having Junmyeon’s hand holding his so _tight_ , and Sehun feels relatively confident meeting people’s eyes on the street, for once.

“This whole thing feels awfully romantic, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon whispers, smiling. Sehun almost doesn’t catch it, with how _loud_ the lively noises of the street are. Between children’s cries and teenage laughter, easy chattering colorful banter, Junmyeon’s soft voice almost feels like an illusion to Sehun, a trick of his biased mind on him, insecure, helpless.

But it was no illusion, nor a trick of his mind, and Junmyeon turns to him, eyes glistening handsomely. Sehun loses himself in the bright light shining at the bottom of his dark irises, paradoxical, _genuine_.

“Does it?” Sehun whispers back, spellbound. His voice is thick with love, and Sehun hopes the street is loud enough to cover the slight tremble of his words.

“Yeah, I… I’m going to miss this so bad, _God_ ,” Junmyeon laughs wetly, throwing his head back with eyes closed and brows furrowed.

Sehun’s heart twists painfully in his chest.

“Jun… Myeon…?” Sehun tries, staring horrified at the lone tear rolling down Junmyeon’s left cheek. At the sight of Junmyeon’s tears, Sehun’s resolve crumbles completely.

“Jun, what’s up? Why are you crying?” Sehun asks, hand shaking in Junmyeon’s tightening hold on it, “you saw Chanyeol! Come on, don’t cry, _please_ —“

“I don’t give a _damn_ about Chanyeol, Sehun!” Junmyeon explodes, throwing Sehun an exasperated stare. Sehun freezes, “I came all the way here because I wanted to see Tokyo with _you!_ Why can’t you see it? Why? I’ve loved you for so _long_ , and you never—“

Sehun’s mind blanks.

Sehun isn’t even thinking straight, going completely on autopilot as he drags Junmyeon by the hand onto a smaller, much less crowded alley. His heart’s beating exceptionally _fast_ as he stares into Junmyeon’s big, glassy eyes, and he knows it _can’t_ possibly be healthy but he doesn’t care, he _doesn’t care_ because he would’ve never thought he would eventually get to hear those words out of Junmyeon’s lips someday.

“Junmyeon, _Junmyeon_ I—“ he tries to speak, but his mouth won’t collaborate, and Sehun chokes on his tears, “I— _I love you too_ —“

He catches just a glimpse of Junmyeon’s wide eyes before all but throwing himself onto him and trying to communicate what his words can’t, catching Junmyeon’s lips with his in a passionate, long overdue kiss that tastes like urgency, salty tears and burnt sugar.

☆彡

Sehun’s big, big hands wander about underneath the soft fabric of Junmyeon’s sleep shirt, raising trail after trail of goosebumps along Junmyeon’s sides. Sehun buries his face in the juncture of Junmyeon’s shoulder, nipping delicately at the soft, sensitive flesh as Junmyeon’s breathing gets erratic and his hold on Sehun tightens.

Junmyeon’s jugular is _there_ , right in Sehun’s face, popping out underneath the flushed skin of Junmyeon’s neck, and Sehun can’t help but leave a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it, making Junmyeon moan. The sound goes straight to Sehun’s dick, and his hands start to shake as he skirts them along Junmyeon’s torso, _hungry_ , searching.

“S-Sehunnie…” Junmyeon croaks out, voice fading into a small whimper when Sehun’s fingers graze one of his nipples, “Sehunnie… _Please_ …”

“ _Myeon_ …” Sehun groans, his erection brushing against Junmyeon’s slightly as he straddles him. The brief contact sets Sehun’s blood on _fire_ , and he can’t help but duck down to capture Junmyeon’s plump, red lips in a greedy kiss full of passion.

“M-make…” Junmyeon sighs out in between hot, wet kisses, “make me y-yours, Sehunnie…” He hugs Sehun closer to himself, and the position eventually brings their erections closer, too. They both see _stars_ at that.

Sehun starts grinding his hips down, hard on rubbing against Junmyeon’s with every thrust. Warm, delicious _pleasure_ builds up at the pit of his stomach, and all he can see, all he can _feel_ is Junmyeon, panting underneath him, saliva-wet lips parted and breathing quick, cheeks and chest flushed the prettiest shade of crimson.

“Y-you’re so…” Sehun stutters out, heart threatening to break free of its cage with just how _fast_ it’s beating, “you’re so beautiful, I _love_ you, Jun, I-I love… You…” He whines, straining his muscles to get more friction.

Junmyeon moans, high-pitched and pretty, hips stuttering, “I love you too… Sehun, _Sehun_ take this o-off,” he says, tugging at the hem of Sehun’s t-shirt, “t-take everything off. I wanna see… I wanna _feel_ you.”

It’s so _hard_ for Sehun to detach himself from Junmyeon’s flushed body, now that he can finally worship it and every single one of Junmyeon’s perfect imperfections, and it takes a while for him to manage to get his hands off Junmyeon’s hips.

He undresses fast and hurriedly, throwing all his clothes in a messy pile somewhere to the side without bothering not to have them touch the floor, and Junmyeon does the same, slipping out of his pajamas so fast that one second Sehun’s staring at Junmyeon struggling with the buttons of his shirt and the other Junmyeon’s _naked_ , inviting _ass_ is _right in Sehun’s face_ , metaphorically screaming him “ _eat me, Sehunnie_ ”.

“Holy fucking _shit_ ,” he snarls, big hands going to wrap around Junmyeon’s soft buttocks. He gives the tender flesh a couple tentative squeezes, and when Junmyeon only moans at Sehun’s actions, the latter dives in and starts biting, teeth grazing soft, pale skin hungrily.

“Sehun, touch me, please, _please_ touch me—“ Junmyeon whines, voice muffled by his arms. His pink, puckered hole flutters, and Sehun’s rationality gets carelessly thrown out of the window, along with any capability of holding back he may have had until now. He doesn’t think twice before burying his face in the crack of Junmyeon’s ass, closing his eyes as he starts lapping at his hole with fervor.

Sehun, _the brat_ , he’s always been everything but patient, and _Junmyeon_ , Junmyeon tastes like strawberries.

“S- _Sehun_ —!” Junmyeon squeaks out, clearly not expecting any of it, “Sehun, stop, that’s d—“ he gets cut off by Sehun unceremoniously shoving his warm, wet tongue past the tight ring of muscle, fingers digging into his thighs and blunt nails leaving faded crescents on his skin.

Junmyeon’s legs shake at that, and he’s shaking _so much_ , trembling under the weight of the pleasure brought by Sehun’s passionate touches and the raw _love_ he harbors for his best friend running in his system like the strongest anesthetic in stock. Sehun holds him up for the best he can, even as his arms threaten to give up, muscles going limp with pleasure as he sneaks a hand downwards and starts stroking himself.

When Sehun moans around his hole, Junmyeon’s ass _vibrates_. It has Junmyeon whining high in his throat, and the sound alone is like music to Sehun’s ears. Junmyeon’s voice, it’s always so excruciatingly _pretty_ , even during sex, and Sehun feels a wave of affection wash over him at Junmyeon’s soft, small sounds of pleasure.

He’s the cause of that. _Sehun_.

He could cry.

“ _Mmm_ you got… You got condoms…?” Sehun asks, pulling away slightly. A string of saliva still connects his lips to Junmyeon’s puckered hole, and it’s hands down the _sexiest_ thing he’s ever experienced.

“N-no,” Junmyeon huffs out, his slick hole pathetically clenching on air, trying helplessly to get some friction.

“Well,” Sehun says, enthralled by the sight. His mouth waters all over again, “I guess I’ll just have to make you cum like this, Jun. Hope you don’t mind.”

And then he’s back to it.

He licks, sucks, _bites_ , moves from Junmyeon’s ass to his thighs, leaves trail after trail of bite marks and blossoming bruises, purple and gorgeous, all the way up to his bottom.

After a while of that, though, Junmyeon’s moans turn wet, and Sehun’s ministrations turn longing. It was bound to happen, with this being _everything_ but a one night stand, and the heat of the moment slowly wearing off to leave space to affection, _love_ and all the things that come with them.

Junmyeon’s still shaking. He’s been shaking _so much_ , breaking beneath Sehun’s hands, the latter’s usual warm, caring touch turned into something hotter, more passionate, _burning_ with passion. When Junmyeon eventually starts sobbing, Sehun delicately makes him lie on his back, a hand reflectively wrapping around Junmyeon’s.

Sehun can’t help but smile fondly at the sight of Junmyeon’s tears, his own eyes starting to sting. He would’ve never thought Junmyeon to be the type to cry during sex, but Junmyeon’s been full of surprises, lately, after all.

Junmyeon’s cheeks are red, wet with his tears, and he still looks so _beautiful_ , even as he uselessly tries to wipe them away with the back of his free hand, strong sobs making his whole small figure shake.

Sehun feels a couple tears wet his own cheeks, too, but he can’t help it. He just _can’t help it_ , when he’s got Kim Junmyeon, the small, pretty recipient of all his love crying under him, naked and fragile and everything he could ever wish for and _more_.

“W-we’re pathetic, Sehunnie…” Junmyeon chokes out, smiling at Sehun through the tears, lips twisting weirdly.

Sehun laughs wetly at the supposedly ‘ _ugly_ ’ sight. Junmyeon still looks so good it _hurts_ , and perhaps Sehun’s in way too deep. He doesn’t care.

“Yeah, we are,” he agrees, sniffling, “but I don’t give a fuck. _I love you_. I love you so much.”

Sehun grins at Junmyeon through the tears, eyes twinkling.

Junmyeon cries louder.

“Y-you _asshole_ —!” He cries out, “if you go around s-saying shit l-like that I’ll never… I’ll never stop crying!” He whines, strong tremors running through his body. Sehun laughs and dips down to circle his arms around Junmyeon’s small figure, every small sensation heightened now that they’re both naked.

Junmyeon is so _warm_.

“I love you…” Sehun mumbles again, lovesick, pathetic, _small_. He peppers Junmyeon’s flushed chest with light, tender kisses, stroking his hands back and forth at his sides reassuringly. After a while, Junmyeon seems to calm down, sobs subsiding and fading into small sighs.

It takes just one brief look downwards for Sehun to know that Junmyeon’s hard _again_.

Sehun holds back a smirk.

“Sehunnie…” Junmyeon calls, voice raspy and broken, “p-please make me f-feel good I— I need it, _I need_ —“ Sehun’s hand goes to his cock, starting to stroke it languidly, and Junmyeon lets out a long, sudden moan, “I need you…”

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” Sehun murmurs encouragingly, flicking his wrist from time to time, making Junmyeon whine.

He keeps the act up for a while, just until Junmyeon’s wet enough for Sehun to use his precum as lube. He swipes his thumb over the slit, gathering as much clear liquid as he can, and Junmyeon _arches_ into the touch, a string of broken whimpers and curses falling out of his lips.

“Have you… Have you ever done this before, Junmyeon?” Sehun asks, brows furrowing in concentration. He slicks his fingers with Junmyeon’s precum, and slowly, _slowly_ starts to push it past the tight ring of muscle of Junmyeon’s entrance.

“ _Aah_ —!” Junmyeon moans at the intrusion, high and pretty, hiding his face in his hands. His hole clenches around Sehun’s finger, “y-yeah I— _mmmh_ , b-by myself—“

“You’ve never had sex?” Sehun asks, stopping in his tracks. His hand stutters, and Junmyeon whines, evidently feeling it too.

“It didn’t f-feel…” Junmyeon sucks in a breath as Sehun snaps out of his initial surprise and starts moving his finger around, “it didn’t feel right… T-they weren’t y-you—“

From just one, the tapered fingers wandering about in Junmyeon’s ass become two, and then three. Sehun starts kissing each of Junmyeon’s tear streaked cheeks tenderly when he furrows his brows in pain at the third, and Junmyeon tries his best to get Sehun close to his release, too, pleasure messing up his coordination as he strokes Sehun’s length with trembling hands.

And with one last set of reciprocated ‘ _I love you_ ’s whispered through broken moans and heated kisses, Junmyeon and Sehun cum, together, with Sehun’s seed staining the sheets beneath them and Junmyeon’s painting his own abdomen white.

☆彡

“What are you thinking about, Hunnie?” Junmyeon asks him, voice light and soft, turning to him in his arms to look him in the eyes.

They’re lying in bed, sated and freshly showered, cuddled up in each other under the thick khaki duvet they’ve both grown familiar with. Tokyo is loud outside, buzzing with life even at such an ungodly hour, cars honking and people laughing the night away in the still crowded streets.

“I still can’t believe this,” Sehun whispers, small, unsure. He stares at the ceiling above them, at the cracks running along its width. His mind is racing a hundred miles per minute, a thousand doubts clouding his thoughts like a thick, gray fog of insecurities, “us. I can’t believe you love me back. It feels like a dream.”

“But I’m here, aren’t I?” Junmyeon speaks up, successfully breaking his dangerous train of thought. He brings a hand to Sehun’s face, strokes his cheek with delicate, light fingers. Junmyeon’s eyes are so _bright_ as they stare into Sehun’s, _hopeful_ , and Sehun feels something twist inside him.

“Yeah, you are.” He breathes out, ducking down to capture Junmyeon’s plump, inviting lips with his in a tender, loving kiss, slow and full of affection. Junmyeon bites down on Sehun’s lower lip, pulling a whimper out of him.

Sehun loses himself in the heat of their kisses, in the sweetness of Junmyeon’s lips, in the warmth of Junmyeon’s body, and nothing else matters, for now.

Soon, he and Junmyeon will be back in their hometown, and their lives will shape back to normal the second they step foot in Seoul’s crowded airport. In a matter of hours Junmyeon’s living room will be home to Sehun _once again_ and he’ll eventually spend more time at Junmyeon’s than his own house; days will get shorter and shorter for a while and then longer all over again, and Sehun will spend his nights staring out Junmyeon’s bedroom’s window, with Junmyeon sleeping soundly on the bed right next to it.

Life will try and get in between them, cruel, careless, in the shape of Sehun’s addict father, Junmyeon’s demanding job, Sehun’s countless issues, Junmyeon’s weaknesses and insecurities, and all the people against them, along with what feels like the entirety of the world.

But for now, _yes_ , Junmyeon’s there with Sehun, in his arms, warm and solid, and he doesn’t look like he wants to pull away any soon, kissing him with fervor, like he _matters_. And just this once, perhaps, Sehun can, and _wants_ to believe.

☆彡

**Author's Note:**

> and now we get emotional, fellas.  
> first of all, dear prompter,, i really, really hope you enjoyed reading this thing (it did take a whole lot of time and effort to finish), and that whenever you feel lonely, you can come back, read this over and feel less lonely. also, i would *love* to hear something from you. 
> 
> and to everyone else who’s read this thing through: thank you. it’s my first time writing something so long in a language that isn’t my first, so comments and kudos, if you feel like leaving some, would be highly appreciated.
> 
> (for the vibe; i listened to a lot of mcr and blackbear while writing, so like,, yeah)


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